Harper 007: License to Smite
by Oryx
Summary: Your mission, should you choose to accept it: Follow the new quest of the party, joined by a suave swashbuckler. This message will self-destruct in 10 seconds.
1. The End is the Beginning

HARPER 007: LICENSE TO SMITE  
  
Onyx  
  
Male Human  
  
Lawful Good, but tends to Neutral Good  
  
Cavalier  
  
Level 30  
  
HP: 205  
  
STR 21  
  
DEX 18  
  
CON 21  
  
INT 14 (it was 2. Hey, don't look at me like you didn't do the same.)  
  
WIS 14 (it was 19)  
  
CHA 21  
  
Axes ++  
  
Bastard Swords ++  
  
Flails ++  
  
Longswords ++  
  
Two-Handed Swords ++  
  
Two-Handed Style ++  
  
Two Weapon Style ++  
  
Fire 40%  
  
Cold 20 %  
  
Electricity 20%  
  
Acid 20%  
  
Poison 100%  
  
Magic 15%  
  
Immune to normal and +1 weapons  
  
Immune to fear and charm  
  
Death: -2  
  
Wand: 1  
  
Polymorph: 0  
  
Breath: 0  
  
Spells: 2  
  
1. The End is the Beginning  
  
4 FLAMERULE 1100 THE ABYSS  
  
"I choose a mortal life."  
  
"WOOHOO!" Lilacor the (questionably) sentient sword screamed from the soon-to-be-ex-Bhaalspawn's back. "WE MAKE A GREAT TEAM! MORE KILLING AND SLASHING AND HACKING! YEAH SMITE THAT EVIL SMITE IT YEAH!!" In the next sheath, Carsomyr's holy aura briefly reddened as if with embarrassment for two-handed swords everywhere.  
  
Solar looked nonplussed but mustered her dignity and spoke. "Very well, Bhaalchild, a mortal you shall henceforth be."  
  
Columns of white light enshrouded the six adventurers, filling their senses and souls with feelings of purity and peace as the chilling presence of the Abyss faded.  
  
Minsc felt as a child when he had first learned to swim, and Boo gave a soft hamster-purr from his pocket. Minsc thought to himself, as surely did Boo, at last the evil butts have kicked beyond repair. There are other bad people out there, but for now, hamster and rangers everywhere shall rejoice!  
  
Nalia felt as a child when she had first sneaked some leftovers from a banquet to her maids. She thought to herself, we could not save Saradush, but surely we saved the rest of Amn from destruction at the hands of the Bhaalspawn and Melissan. At last, I have found why trudging around in dungeons and forests, why fighting and warring, help the less fortunate.  
  
Imoen felt as a child, an eternal child, when she had first played a prank on her brother by furtively filching something from him. She thought to herself, at last it is over. I'll never again be that innocent girl wandering around Candlekeep or up and down the Sword Coast with by brother and our companions, but finally we are free again to journey as we please, and get into what mischief or merriment we may.  
  
Jaheira felt as a child, before being orphaned by murderous revolutionaries, when she had first wandered out into nature and played with a bunny rabbit. She thought to herself, surely as a goddess, a risen Lady of Murder, Melissan would have laid waste to the flora and fauna of the land as well as to the sentient races, as I realize every time I think of the scorched wasteland that was left of Saradush's environs. My charge and I argued bitterly these last months over whether a balance of good and evil was indeed a balance of nature and we watched ourselves be driven apart, which I know has been painful for us both. I feel that I struggle still with questions of the balance within my very head.  
  
Aerie felt as a child, before falling from the heavens, when she had first flown through the sky by herself, feeling free in every way. She thought to herself, now at last I feel free. Before I was a slave, the innocent felt like freedom but once lost, never could again. Quayle freed me once, but I only felt yet chained to the ground. Now, at last, I am a free person, I am free of imminent danger to myself, my love, my friends, and my unborn child, and finally I truly feel free, for I no longer feel longing for my wings. The adventure, friendship, and love I have found on the land have replaced them. I have never been so overjoyed; I will lead a happy life and work to free others too.  
  
Onyx felt as a child, wandering with his sister outside Candlekeep, before he had begun to journey further from its walls in search of kobolds to slay, feeling both righteous resolve and furious wrath when he struck them down. He thought to himself, I feel as a child born of these two fathers. The taint that always whispered to but never corrupted me is gone. Still I feel both the calm and the fury. One side wishes only to live peacefully among my friends and with my fiancé and soon our child. The other side wishes only to hunt evil and pursue justice for unavenged wrongs and to rejoice in the rightful smiting. These are the entwined legacies of my fathers, Gorion and Bhaal.  
  
**********  
  
4 FLAMERULE 1200 OUTSIDE AMKETHRAN  
  
In the desert outside Amkethran, it was high noon. Two figures, wearing white and black wide-brimmed hats respectively, faced each other from twenty paces apart, fingers wiggling just above the hand-crossbow- sheathes at their hips. A lone tumbleweed blew past between them, bouncing across the dusty sand, as they stared one another down.  
  
"I am tha terro' of Tethyr! You'll never take me in, Sir Joneleth Wayne!" cried the black-hatted man and spat a wad of tobacco onto the ground, some of it clinging to his handlebar moustache.  
  
"Yer a-gonna hang fer bein a no-good outlaw, William of Kidd!" declared the white-hatted man.  
  
In a flash, the men drew and fired. Each clutched his chest and fell to the ground. But the white-hatted man stood a few minutes later, and let the top of an iron stove fall out from under his shirt.  
  
"Serves ya right, ya scoundrel," he quipped, whistled for and mounted his horse, and rode off into the sunset.  
  
A few minutes later, six columns of light descended upon the desert. They vanished and only the party remained, healed of its wounds from the last battle. They turned to face one another, each trying to speak but thinking of nothing truly appropriate to say, each breaking into a wide smile, and finally all six closing in the circle in a group hug and gales of laughter.  
  
"We did it!" Imoen shouted first. "I can't believe it!"  
  
"I thought we were going to die!" Aerie squealed. "This is amazing!"  
  
"I never doubted any of us!" Onyx chuckled and scoops his sister and lover up in an arm each.  
  
"Minsc and Boo were fearless too and all tales shall be spun that righteousness won!" the ranger danced while being handed his witch by his paladin friend. "And all our witches blasted evil to pieces!" he laughed and effortlessly hoisted up Nalia in his other arm.  
  
Nalia smiled calmly. "I'm just glad we saved the people of this land from it."  
  
"And don't forget the land itself," Jaheira added. She was then the first to interrupt the moment of levity. "So.what now?"  
  
The other five looked around at the desert.  
  
"Well, I'm beat," Aerie sighed contentedly as Minsc let her down and she backed up to Onyx. "Why don't we rest for a little while?" she suggested while taking his hand.  
  
"Amkethran is not so far that way!" Minsc pointed at the easily visible edge of the city.  
  
"We could pay Balthezar a visit," Onyx mused. "Things.ended amicably enough between us, I think."  
  
"Well, it's settled," Nalia agreed whilst catching a large smile from Imoen and a modest nod of approval from Jaheira.  
  
After only a few minutes of walking, they had come within a stone's throw of the gates of the monastery, and Balthezar and somehow become aware of their approach and walked out to greet them.  
  
"My fellow former Bhaalchild and his companions are indeed alive," he betrayed a hint of expectant happiness in his calm voice. "I have been expecting you. Please honor us with your presence at a simple feast in honor of your victory."  
  
The other five were taken aback by the dispassionate monk's friendliness as Onyx and Balthezar shook hands. Despite having nearly killed each other in battle only the day before, the no-longer-Bhaalspawns had made a solemn peace pact. Even so, with Onyx having already ceded the throne, Balthezar simply had no more reason to be at odds with him.  
  
They party members were shown to their quarters. Nalia, still a tad suspicious, cast a wizard eye to look over their belongings while they shed their battle gear and went to wash their clothes and bathe. They reemerged for dinner feeling far more refreshed than they had in months.  
  
The dinner that evening was laid out in the monastery's central chamber upon low tables surrounded by pillows, to be eaten in cross-legged chairless fashion. True to the monastic tradition, the food was not extravagant, but satisfying and nourishing, and left one feeling far healthier than the most elegant Athkatla feast would have.  
  
"OHHHH HOT!!!!!" a certain Rashemanian ranger, who shall remain nameless, exclaimed as he literally bit off more than he could chew of a spicy dish. He went berserk and began running around and trying to spit it out; eventually required half a dozen monks to tackle and restrain him while pouring milk in his mouth. "Ah....that is much better!"  
  
"My friend and sibling," Balthazar began to Onyx in a quiet, unassuming tone only the paladin could hear, "I thought of much as I gazed up the starry sky last night. I believe that I have at last learned well the meaning of good."  
  
Onyx nodded. "I detected the very same upon first seeing you today."  
  
"I understood you did from your lack of surprise at my demeanor. But I'm afraid I will carry my guilt with me always; a reminder never to make the same mistakes again."  
  
"You did what you thought was right. Many opposed me for good reasons, not believing I had mastered our taint. Your monastic beliefs, I understand, might justify means that paladinic ethics might not."  
  
"It is good that you have drawn such a contrast, for I now wish to address that issue in what I believe will be a most practical matter. I have had the idea of creating a Monastic Guard of monks and paladins to watch over this city and purge it from corruption, crime, and lawlessness."  
  
"A noble idea. A successful endeavor would doubtless attract many settlers and merchants."  
  
"Precisely; I wish not only to give a better life to those living here, but provide an option for such a better life to those elsewhere."  
  
"I expect many in Athkatla would seize such an opportunity, there is much work to be done there and I believe at least one of my companions means to do something about it. Upon returning to the city, I will notify the Order of your plans; I believe there are more than a few paladins there who would serve this new cause."  
  
"Let us toast then, to good and justice, which may yet be the ultimate legacy of the spawn of Bhaal."  
  
**********  
  
5 FLAMERULE 0600 OUTSIDE AMKETHRAN  
  
The party left at dawn the next day, heading northwest toward Athkatla. The desert gradually gave way to grasslands with scattered forests. Minsc was scouting a few hundred paces ahead, Onyx held hands with Aerie, who was chatting incessantly with Imoen and Nalia, and Jaheira trudged off to their side a bit.  
  
As Minsc disappeared over a hill, the rest of the party heard a "YOU BITE BUM OF MINSC YOU MAKE MINSC AND BOO VERY MAD!!!!" echo from the other side. Jaheira polymorphed into a wolf and dashed ahead quickly to him while the other four ran. Before the four reached the hill, the druid had disappeared over the other side and soon reemerged a human at its crest, alongside Minsc and a newly charmed bobcat.  
  
"False alarm!" Jaheira yelled and the other four returned to a walk. She turned to continue alongside Minsc, well ahead of the rest of the group. The two walked in silence for awhile.  
  
"Hey, Belm baby, nice curves," Lilacor, now on Minsc's back, called to Jaheira's scimitar. "Whaddaya say we duel? There's plenty of room in this sheath for two, you know."  
  
"Hey, Lile," Jaheira reprimanded, "just because Belm moves fast doesn't mean she's easy."  
  
"Just gets lonely, you know," Lilacor sighed. "I tried talking to Backrazor, but hooboy, she's a real mean one! She's eeeeeeeeevil!"  
  
Jaheira sighed. "I just don't get it. After his sister filched Blackrazor off that djinni, the paladin was more than happy to wield an evil blade in one hand and a holy weapon in the other, and for awhile I thought he might actually finally be getting the idea of balance. I tried to tell him how happy I was, but then he just started preaching about destroying evil with evil."  
  
"He is so smart!" Minsc beamed, seeming oblivious to Jaheira's mood. "He says that we do twice the good when evil is not destroyed, but turned against more evil! Isn't that right, Boo?" A high-pitched "mmm-hmmm" squeak sounded from the ranger's pocket.  
  
"But that's exactly the problem!" Jaheira nearly screamed. "He just wants to go around destroying! It puts him on the same level as Sarevok!"  
  
"No no, druid lady!" Minsc spoke up and poked a finger into the air. "We are forces of righteousness and destroy only evil!" "But that just starts the cycle over again," Jaheira sighed. "You rangers and paladins just never understand." She fell to thought and walked in silence alongside Minsc, who made only occasional trivial remarks to his hamster. The childish Rashemanian's obliviousness angered her almost as much as the cavalier paladin's arrogance.  
  
The ranger perked up when he heard a horn sound in the distance.  
  
"Hey, that sounds like." Nalia smiled, further back, as Minsc's horn suddenly cut her off with a responding blast of its own. Within a few minutes of walking, the other horn sounded, much closer, and Minsc sounded his again. A figure popped out of some nearby trees and ran toward them.  
  
"It's Valygar!" Nalia laughed happily as the two rangers met and gave one another slaps on the back. They slowed down and fell back, alongside Jaheira who dragged behind, or technically ahead, of them.  
  
The stalker gave Onyx, Aerie, Imoen and Nalia each increasingly affectionate hugs, after which he sheepishly pulled back his somewhat unkempt dreadlocks. "Word is just reaching Athkatla of your victory!" he congratulated them. "I thought I'd find you along this road."  
  
"You.were in Athkatla?" Nalia frowned in concern. "Aren't you still.at the ire of the Cowled wizards?" The noble-blooded pair each wrinkled their noses at the last words.  
  
Valygar gave an edgy smirk. "Briefly, I hadn't been back since we left together to seek the statue of Amaunator."  
  
Onyx put his arm over Aerie and held her tight at the reference. He offered his other hand to the stalker who shook it. "Thanks again for helping us.rout Bodhi." He said solemnly, the real reason they'd had to enlist his help implicitly understood.  
  
"Always, my friend, for such a noble quest." Valygar nodded politely. "And besides, it was the least I could do after you helped me at the Sphere."  
  
"Anything new happen with it?"  
  
"Nah, I've locked it to keep those infernal wizards from tampering with it, but I don't really know what to do with it myself."  
  
"Oh Val, I was really hoping to see you again, to, um, ask you about that," Nalia chimed in. "I was thinking we," she also shot Aerie and Imoen quick glances to suggest their inclusion in the plural, "could maybe figure out the magical workings of it. There must be some way we could put it to good use."  
  
"Come with us back to Candlekeep!" Imoen exclaimed, snaking an arm around her brother's and glancing at him and his bride. "If you're going to find stuff on constructs like that anywhere, it'll be there!"  
  
"I appreciate your interest," Valygar smiled at Nalia, "but you have your keep to rightfully win back, and weren't you toying with the idea of politics?"  
  
"You remembered!" Nalia beamed. "Yeah, I'll have to stay in Athkatla, but I'll be able to look at the Sphere with you."  
  
"I'll keep an eye out for something helpful!" Imoen chimed. "And if I send you a book from Candlekeep, don't worry about the due date!" the thief winked.  
  
Jaheira walked silently beside them all, wondering what she was going to do with the next few weeks, indeed with the rest of her life.  
  
"So, just out this way? Or just stop by to catch us and say hi?" Onyx asked Valygar with friendly sarcasm, sensing a purpose to the stalker's having found them.  
  
"Yes, it's a bit of a long story, but we seem to have the time," Valygar began. "I was up in my cabin in the hills, and another ranger who stopped by informed be that a circus was stopping by in Trademeet, one that, rumor has it, uses slaves." Aerie shuddered and Onyx gripped his love even tighter. "I went into town to inspect it, and found more than I bargained for. Apparently, they were actually buying several score more while in town!"  
  
"From whom?" Onyx demanded.  
  
"I don't know. I spied on them, but they kept avoiding proper names. I even kidnapped a few of them, but they didn't know anything."  
  
"Where's the circus going next?" Onyx asked.  
  
"Beregost." Valygar answered. Onyx almost changed course midstride, but Valygar added, "Don't go after them alone. I went to report to the Vigilant Hawk Ranger Lodge outside Athkatla. They and - allied organizations - have more information on the circus and the slave trade. In fact, it was Keldorn Firecam from the Order who sent me here to request that you come see him."  
  
"Very well. It's practically on the way." Onyx nodded.  
  
"Onyx! We agreed to take a break from this sort of thing!" Aerie piped up.  
  
Onyx sighed. "I know, but I should at least talk to Keldorn about it. Aerie, fighting slavery is exactly the sort of thing we've decided to continue to do."  
  
"I know," Aerie sighed. "I feel strongly about that, but right now? When will we ever get a break?"  
  
"She's got a point," Imoen added, "I mean, there are tons of adventurers to be recruited, especially," she broke into a wide grin, "with all the tales of us starting to float through the taverns!"  
  
"Drunken novices," Jaheira dismissed them. "This is a worthy cause, though I might caution against overzealousness. Slavery is a much larger battle than this, an evil that's just part of the natural world, and we shouldn't feel obligated."  
  
"A very worthy cause indeed," Nalia agreed, "but one that must indeed be overcome eventually!" she disagreed. "I can't stand the thought of all those poor helpless people in bondage," she shot a patronizing look at Aerie. "But, my friends, this is the sort of reason I want to change Athkatla itself, and I feel I can be most valuable in a council building, not on the road."  
  
Onyx frowned at the lukewarm responses of his companions. He smiled when he heard a shout of "Minsc will kick the butts of slavers and slaveholders everywhere! Evil circuses beware the sword of Minsc!" An inquisitive squeak came from his pocket. "Oh, and the bite of Boo!"  
  
"Well," Valygar mediated, "we've still got a number of hours on the road to think about it, and we'll get more information in Athkatla. So, tell me about the epic battle against the Bhaalspawn!" 


	2. Mission Inquisitor

2. Mission Inquisitor  
  
7 FLAMERULE 1900 ATHKATLA  
  
They arrived at the gates of Athkatla at dusk a few days later. Word of the end of the Bhaalspawn War hadn't quite reached most of the population yet, and the city seemed to be at the end of a typical day.  
  
"Do you think Keldorn would still be at the Order?" Onyx inquired of Valygar.  
  
"Oh yes, he's been there almost 24-10 lately, actually," Valygar nodded. "He wanted to see you as soon as you could make it."  
  
"Fine, but let's get everyone comfortable first," Onyx smiled, drawing a smile from Aerie.  
  
They headed to the Copper Coronet and got a few of the nicest rooms - the rates had long been a joke to the wealthy adventurers - and got settled in. The justifiably-paranoid group kept their belongings in Bags of Holding on their persons when they went down for dinner, but then Onyx headed straight out the front doors with quick hugs and promises to be back soon.  
  
He made his way through the slums and over the bridge to the temple district. The guards in front of the order gave him polite greetings, and many inside gave him warm welcomes of recognition too.  
  
"Onyx!" Keldorn Firecam appeared with his arm outstretched jovially, and Onyx shook it.  
  
"Even if Val hadn't intercept me, I'd say you seemed almost too happy to see me," Onyx responded in a lowered voice, "Something amiss?"  
  
The inquisitor smiled. "And they say cavaliers aren't as perceptive as we. Come."  
  
Keldorn led Onyx to one of the studies of the Order and closed the door. He ran his fingers along of the bookshelves and began to pull out a book. The tome snapped mechanically back into place and the next bookshelf slid away, revealing a stairway. The two went down it, curving around to a room under the previous one. Onyx could hear the bookshelf above them slide back into place.  
  
Keldorn pushed open the doors to the small room, revealing a much larger one. "Welcome to Quest Command." Various tables were about it, many with flag-dotted maps atop them, others with strange equipment, still others with various papers, documents, and small trinkets such as insignia rings. Paladins and rangers pored over the tables and moved to and fro, discussing military and intelligence matters in jargon. They looked up to give Keldorn cursory nods as he passed by. With Onyx in tow, he came to another door to the main room and opened it. They each stepped into another small room and Keldorn shut the door behind them.  
  
"I was hoping there was more to the Order than the gossiping and armor-polishing of the main floor," Onyx smiled as they sat on opposite sides of a stone table.  
  
Keldorn nodded, "If you are surprised, that is good. Impervious to scrying and teleportation, this place is meant to be unknown to all but certain members of the Order and Lodge, and a very, very small number of others, such as Elminster, Khelben Arunsun, and Lady Alustriel. It remains unknown to all others, and that includes the Council of Six and the rest of Amn's despicable government. Our autonomy and confidentiality are necessary in fighting the wars we fight. You know how the Council fights wars external and internal, one hand tied behind its back, if the members can even said to be fighting on the same side at all. And it's not about to get better. I'll make you privy to the fact that one of the Six recently 'passed away,' and has been succeeded by a gentleman, Dwein Sereindoes - says he's Rashemanian but his accent sounds different to me - who seems all but determined to make sure Amn doesn't lift a finger against corruption, slavery, and even invasion - I hate to think what would happen if anything more than scattered orc hordes were engaging us in open military confrontations right now. Well, don't even get me started about the rumors of a drow witch summoning undead in the graveyard district at night, or a huge man with glowing eyes who's been killing men by the dozens in bar brawls. Someone even showed up at our doorstep this morning, babbling that he'd followed the man carrying the bodies back to the woman in the graveyard for reanimation. Died of shock before we could get any more out of him. Anyway, beyond field command, the Order's forces and quests are managed from here. And that's what I want to talk to you about."  
  
"This is what we call Black Quest, strictly off the books, related intelligence may be in writing where pertaining to, derived from, or gathered for its purpose, but the operation's existence will never be explicitly recorded. Black-Qs are the things that need to be done, but that for whatever reason we'd rather not have the Order's seal upon, and perhaps rather not have the existence of be known at all, lest the forces we're opposing be aided by such knowledge."  
  
"Your cause: As you know, slavery is rampant in Amn, whatever the laws might be. It hasn't been getting any better lately. Dwein's been doing a fantastic job of crippling Amn's efforts against it. Those of the Harpers and our own haven't been going so well for external reasons. With one exception. Some Lodge stalkers temporary disrupted the Shadow Thieves' and Zhentarim's Sword Coast and Amn slaving operations recently with a string of assassinations, but the market supply hasn't seemed to let up."  
  
"Your mission: Determine the identity of this source, be it an undisrupted wing of one of these two organizations, or another group. Calishamite slavers perhaps, who knows. You will do this by infiltrating a known customer of said slaves. The Chaos Circus."  
  
Onyx's jaw dropped. "They're the ones who bought Aerie."  
  
"Yes. The gnome Quayle once bought out them out, freeing those he obtained, most of whom, including your future fiancé, then stayed on with his circus voluntarily. But the ringleaders regrew their circus under the same name, and recently bought a number of slaves from this unknown supplier." Keldorn slid a dossier across the table to Onyx, and the younger paladin began to read it. "Quayle was helpful in getting information about it - could barely get the gnome to shut up, actually - and we have some other sources, such as Valygar and other spies. Obviously, it being an exhibitionist group by nature, some information is easy to get, as you're now reading. You'll note their sorts of exhibits and crew - exotic animals and monsters, armed acrobatics, illusionary and enchantment magic, performers of swashbuckling and bardic ilks, - it's almost like putting an eclectic army under a tent."  
  
"And who are the ringleaders?"  
  
"We don't know much about them, and all the circus's managing and business seems to go directly through them, which is why we know so little about their contacts. Quayle said, and our more recent intelligence confirms, that there are three, but their true names and histories remain unknown. They merely go by titles - they call themselves the Blade, the Skald, and the Jester."  
  
"That's about as much as Aerie knew or at least remembered. She scarcely even met them."  
  
"I thought as much, Quayle told us what she told him."  
  
"And is it a total coincidence that now you're asking me to pursue them?"  
  
"Yes and no. Likely I would have anyway - after the Bhaalspawn War and your other adventures, you've proven yourself one of our most formidable members in the field, despite your green age. Your recent high profile is obviously a liability in a Black-Q, though."  
  
"No one really identifies me on sight. Only the name is known."  
  
"Yes, exactly, so I didn't think it'd be a problem. So in that respect, it's a coincidence. But I expect your personal desires for justice and revenge will only add to your resolve in this mission, and I have faith that they won't cloud your judgment - don't disappoint me. When we learned about Chaos Circus's purchase from Valygar and decided to target them, the connection caused you to come to mind, so it that respect it's no coincidence. It was Valygar who first thought of using you; I suppose Aerie must have told him her story during your adventures."  
  
"Yeah, she couldn't stop talking about her past, actually. Nearly drove Jaheira insane."  
  
"Well, on that note, we need to figure out who else to bring on board. Valygar is definitely in. He knows the Chaos Circus's current location and probable upcoming movements - to Beregost as he may have said - and they'll be easy for him to track, wherever they go. "  
  
"Am I the first or only Order member you've asked?"  
  
"Not quite, I've asked and recruited one other, whom you know. Sir Anomen Delryn,"  
  
Onyx raised his eyebrows but nodded. "He is true of mind and arm. He doesn't seem like the Black-Q type, though."  
  
"I shared your sentiments when I first go to know him. Didn't expect him to agree, but now that he has, I've no doubts."  
  
"What about your squire, the one I met near the Gate? Ajantis Ilvastarr?"  
  
"He's still at the Gate. He and some companions spent the past year routing the rest of the Iron Throne. Did a hell of a job, too. He'll be a full member next time he sets foot in the door here. Might have a hard time convincing him to stay though, I hear they've offered him the Captain of the Guard position of old Scar, rest his soul. Probably make him High Protector before you know it. That city hasn't had one for a while, and needs it. Now, I want to ask about your companions. Who do you think we can trust, and who would be in?"  
  
"We already spoke about it when Valygar found us. As long as there are evil butts involved, Minsc will be in for sure. Heck, he's Aerie's sworn bodyguard and will enjoy avenging her almost as much as I. And he can keep a secret much better than you'd think."  
  
"What about your other adventuring companions?"  
  
"I'll ask Aerie, Nalia, and Imoen again, but I don't expect anything. Nalia has a lot to do in Athkatla - has to try to win rights over her family's Keep and she's also been eager to see her friend Eroanne - one of the secret six councilmembers, as I'm sure you are privy to and I happen to know - I suspect Miss de'Arnise has political aspirations herself, and I think that's great. Imoen has been planning to return to Candlekeep for a while and Aerie and I were planning to join her. Now that this has come up I won't be, I'm afraid, but the three of them firmly decided to take breaks after the Bhaalspawn War and Aerie is still going to want to go with Imoen. She's going to be upset that we'll be apart another few weeks, but she'll understand the cause. And I can't say I'm too upset my sister and fiancé will be staying out of harm's way for once."  
  
"And so I gather you do not trust Jaheira?" Keldorn inferred.  
  
Although Onyx had been planning to explain this next anyway, a sad look came over her face.  
  
"Correct. She'd actually be more likely to agree to the mission, but the nature of it might cause conflicts to arise down the road. At best, she'd leave, at worst, she might actually try to hinder us."  
  
Keldorn's exasperated face was more readable now. "Druids," it said. He spoke verbally. "But do you trust her enough to swear her to secrecy if you ask?"  
  
"Yes," Onyx stated.  
  
Keldorn nodded, and it was understood by both that any hesitation on Onyx's answer just now would have been tantamount to his saying "no."  
  
"Then ask. I understand that Aerie wouldn't be too happy about you and her adventuring, and though we both value your personal considerations we both know they are subservient."  
  
Onyx nodded resolutely, but asked "And how did my personal relations become intelligence?"  
  
Keldorn gave his fellow paladin a sad smirk. "Song more than intelligence, my friend. You were already an adventurer of some repute by...that time..and some bards in the city claim they were more than happy to slip your former Kara-Turan companion some coins in exchange for more...personal...details of your exploits, which he claimed to have overheard in your company."  
  
Onyx nearly pounded the table. "Damn that Yoshimo! Damn neutrals! And now you're asking me to take along one?"  
  
Keldorn sighed. "She's different, Onyx. The only reason she's not still a Harper was her vehemence in defending you. You can trust her."  
  
"I'll ask her.." It was understood that despite his concerns he'd still try to the best of his ability to recruit her. "Assuming I can't get the other three on board, that still leaves us without any thieves or mages."  
  
"You may not need them. A traveling circus isn't going to be like breaking into a fortress. But just in case, I've recruited a few such agents."  
  
Onyx gulped. "Tell me it's not that gnome. As useful as he is, there's no way he could keep his mouth shut."  
  
Keldorn laughed. "No, not your friend Jan - although he'll be providing a few tools, but we'll get to that later." Keldorn passed Onyx another dossier.  
  
Onyx opened it and read it so that Keldorn could hear him, using inflection to convey his opinions on the information.  
  
"Harper Agent 006: Arra Flyte. Female elf. Age confidential, appears young. Fighter, thief, and mage. Alignment (divined 4 Flamerule 69) Neutral Good. Last assignment: Obtained intelligence from Thay High War Council and assassination of Premiere Valon Esserov, believed to have masterminded Thayvian counter-intelligence efforts, resulting in the discovery and deaths of 5 Harper agents in Thay, and to have planted in Amn several Thayvian agents with possible Red Wizard affiliations. Subsequent elimination of two; presence of any remaining agents unknown."  
  
"Harper Agent 007: Jarek Bond. Male human. Age 35. Swashbuckler and mage. Alignment (divined 2 Flamerule 69) Chaotic Good. Last assignment: Quest to Calimshan to investigate possible purchase by Caliph Am-sadd Shusein of spell components for a theoretical Mass Cause Disease spell. Sabotaged attempts of Shusein but was taken captive. Somehow convinced one of Shusein's wives to release him. Slew Shusein and escaped, but latest intelligence indicates the caliph may have been resurrected and begun renewing his efforts."  
  
"I detect approval in your voice."  
  
"Most assuredly. When do I meet them?"  
  
"When you begin the quest. Jan Jansen residence, basement, tomorrow at 0600. Anomen will be there too, as will Valygar and whomever of the aforementioned you recruit. Barring further questions, dismissed."  
  
"One more thing. This is an intelligence gathering mission, but interference is at your discretion. You are licensed to smite."  
  
**********  
  
CHARACTER INFORMATION ARRA FLYTE AND JAREK BOND  
  
Arra Flyte  
  
Female Elf  
  
Neutral Good  
  
Fighter/Thief/Mage  
  
Level 20/23/18  
  
STR 18(45)  
  
DEX 19  
  
CON 11  
  
INT 17  
  
WIS 12  
  
CHA 16  
  
Halberds ++  
  
Longbows ++  
  
Quarterstaves ++  
  
Spears ++  
  
Two-Handed Style ++  
  
  
  
Jarek Bond  
  
Male Human  
  
Chaotic Good  
  
Swashbuckler  
  
Level 50  
  
STR 18  
  
DEX 18  
  
CON 16  
  
INT 16  
  
WIS 8  
  
CHA 19  
  
Clubs +  
  
Crossbows ++  
  
Longswords ++  
  
Katanas ++  
  
Scimitars ++  
  
Shortswords ++  
  
Two Weapon Style +++ 


	3. In or Out

3. In or Out  
  
7 FLAMERULE 2100 ATHKATLA - THE COPPER CORONET  
  
"Hey," Onyx nodded to his companions as he walked back into one of their rooms at the Copper Coronet, "Jaheira, Imoen, and...Minsc? Where's Nalia?"  
  
"Um," Imoen grinned, "She and Minsc switched rooms."  
  
"I see," Onyx smiled as he sat down at the table where the three had been playing cards. Imoen seemed to be winning handily, and Onyx wondered whether that was due to her sharp mind or her long sleeves.  
  
"A little earlier she came by to tell ya that Valygar had talked to her more about the mission, he's going obviously, but she's not. All that stuff she has to do around here. It's not going to be a pretty legal battle to keep the Keep out of Roenal hands. Yuck," Imoen stuck out her tongue with disgust but the effect was adorable.  
  
"Did Valygar speak to you?" Onyx asked.  
  
"Nope. Just her," his sister replied.  
  
"Here's the situation. We're going to intercept the circus in Beregost, and try to figure out who's supplying the slaves. Sir Anomen Delryn and a Harper agent will be joining us. That's the stated mission; information gathering. As for actually disrupting the operations themselves, that's at our discretion as we feel able to. And I mean to."  
  
"Minsc and Boo will stomp on evil slavers and circuses everywhere!"  
  
Onyx smiled. "I had no doubts. Imoen?"  
  
"Well, bro, it really is a noble cause and all, but I really need a break. I mean, we almost died so many times, and I'm so tired. I think I need to become a more powerful mage before I go into the field again, and so I'm going to Candlekeep. Aerie feels the same way about all that, and so we can look after each other. Plus I want to see Candlekeep again, and Aerie's eager to see where we grew up."  
  
"Okay, sis. You betcha Candlekeep is the first place I'm coming when this is over!" Onyx nodded, drawing a smile from his sister. "Jaheira?"  
  
The druid sighed. "It is an important cause, and it looks like your party of knights and rangers is going to need a little balance. I'm in."  
  
"Plus," she added with a long face, "I've got nothing else to do, really."  
  
"Aw, Jah," Imoen tried to put a hand on her wrist but the druid withdrew it, "Come to Candlekeep with us! Um, sorry bro, not to try to steal her from the mission."  
  
"It's a kind offer, sis," Onyx smiled, "Jaheira, consider it, only come with me if your heart is fully in it."  
  
"Bah, a stuffy library is no place for me! I need to be free, among nature!" she scoffed. "But thank you anyway, Imoen," she thawed. "I will join the mission. I do believe in it. But Onyx, let's try to avoid causing another bloodbath if possible."  
  
"They're slavers, Jaheira, they have to be stopped, and I can't promise anything."  
  
"Perhaps you're right," she sighed, "But all the more reason that I should go, another point of view may be needed."  
  
Onyx rolled his eyes, dreading another journey full of Jaheira's scolding and preaching. And they call us paladins proselytizing, he thought. Well, I guess most of us earn the reputation. "Yes, perhaps so," Onyx conceded to Jaheira, causing her jaw to drop in shock. "You can be a wise and calming influence. Anomen can be puritanically, and Valygar and I can be vengeful," he added with a touch of humor but in seriousness.  
  
"Onyx...." Jaheira gasped. Imoen, tactfully, playfully filched Boo out of Minsc's pocket and ran to the next room giggling, causing the hulking ranger to follow her.  
  
"Jaheira," Onyx began, placing his hand over hers on the table.  
  
"GIVE BACK BOO!" echoed from the next room.  
  
"Catch me if ya can, Minscy!" did too.  
  
"Squeak!!!!" definitely.  
  
"You really mean that? I mean, of course you do, I do not doubt your honesty, I'm just surprised." Jaheira stammered.  
  
"Yes," Onyx nodded. "We'll never see eye to eye, but I think we can be a good influence on each other. You're not a typical druid, I'm not a typical paladin, and having someone to challenge your beliefs is the best way to crystallize or refine them. It's not always best for everyone to agree."  
  
"Onyx!" she was shocked. "You sound like you're preaching balance!"  
  
"It has its uses in some places, but not all. Along the way, I want you voicing any thoughts or concerns freely, and for the Jaheira I know, that won't be a problem," he added with a friendly jab, causing her to try to scowl but end up smiling.  
  
"Be careful what you wish for," she joked back in a soft voice and placed her other hand over his. "You may not appreciate it."  
  
"Jaheira, look," Onyx sighed, "I know things got rough between us on our last adventure. I was terse and curt with you, but I wasn't trying to ignore you. I'm sorry."  
  
"So am I," Jaheira's eyes glistened. "I was mean to you - and her - but it was because I cared about us and the group and was trying to keep us strong and balanced."  
  
"Let's just agree to check our hot tempers and cold shoulders. The things we've said did need to be said."  
  
"Okay; I agree. I'm actually looking forward to this journey."  
  
"Me too. Get a good night's sleep, Jaheira. I have one more person to talk to."  
  
Jaheira bit her lip and looked down at the table as their hands separated. "Okay."  
  
As Onyx left the room, a CRASH was heard follow by a "woohoo!" and Imoen dashed back into the room, giggling hysterically and followed by a babbling Minsc. "It's okay, Boo! Imoen is a naughty girl but means no harm! She promises never again to trap you alone in an Otiluke's Resilient Sphere!"  
  
"Aerie?" Onyx asked as he carefully slipped into their room and reclosed the door. She was clutching a pillow and had her face buried in it. She lifted it out to look at him with red eyes, a sniffing nose, and tear-stained cheeks.  
  
"You promised!" she yelled and tossed the pillow at him, which he caught midstride but stopped moving forward. "It was supposed to be just us after we killed Irenicus and got your soul back. Then we agreed it'd be just us after we killed your stupid siblings. The world isn't in danger this time, Onyx, and neither are we! We can't we just be together for once without death at every turn! I've been to hell and back - literally - several times, and now I'm tired, and I need a break, we need a break, and we need to spend some time together if we're going to be in love and start a family!"  
  
Onyx slowly approached and held out his arms. She spun her back to him on the bed, but when he sat down and hugged her, she leaned back into him and her anger melted into more tears. "My love, you know I want that too," he began. "This is more than just another quest, though. Aerie, that circus isn't just another slaving one. It's the one that bought you."  
  
Aerie gasped. "The Chaos Circus? Oh no. They regrew it after Quayle bought it out? That's horrible."  
  
"Yes, I know Aerie. That's why I have to do this. I swore we'd be together, but I also swore to avenge you, and this is my chance. You'd be a great ally on this quest, my love, and we'd be together too, and I'd be protecting you the entire way."  
  
"Oh, Onyx, you're doing this to avenge me? That's...do you know how much that means to me? I love you, Onyx, and I want you to come back soon, come to me at Candlekeep. I just can't go, my love, but I believe in this cause as much as you. Imoen and I wish to study at the great library that we might become true archmages before we adventure again."  
  
"Such are the ways of magery; you will in the long run likely do more good. And if you feel a rest is needed; I'd not want to keep you from it."  
  
Aerie smiled and her face became more casual. "I'm also looking forward to having Imoen show me where and how you grew up!"  
  
"And soon I should be able to show you myself. Beregost is practically on the way and others of the party can report back here for me after the quest. In fact if you stay here very long I may yet beat you there!"  
  
Aerie's smile widened and she turned to wrap her tiny arms around Onyx's shoulders. "That would be wonderful! Your sister and I were planning to stay here a few days with Nalia, and of course I want to see uncle Quayle again."  
  
"Actually, Aerie, I wanted to talk to you about that. Quayle told Keldorn about the three ringleaders, but I wanted to ask if you remembered anything." Onyx wrapped an arm over her protectively, even though speaking of her traumatic past was actually not very saddening to her. If anything, he'd learned during their adventuring how much she blabbed about it, asked or not.  
  
"The three bards? I only saw them up close a few times. They looked like elves, but weird elves. Devilish grins and bluish hair. Wore masks. The circus crew, humans mostly, seemed as awed and frightened by them as I did.  
  
"Thank you. That is actually quite helpful. Now, what about the group that first enslaved and sold you to the circus?"  
  
"I never got their name. We were just flying through the sky, and suddenly a bunch of wyvern-mounted men flew out from behind a cloud and ensnared us with bolas and nets, right out of the air. They carried us down to the ground, and kept us caged in a cave hideaway for a few days. They took us out a few days later, and this big caravan was there, the circus's, and the slavers handed us over. They were really skillful and mean at what they did, but they looked like pretty ordinary rogues otherwise, except their leather had been dyed a purplish hue. Remember when Cyric spoke to you in your pocket plane and we had to fight his assassins? Sort of like that."  
  
"Thank you. Whether or not they were the same group as this one, I promise I'll hunt them down."  
  
"My love, as chivalrous as you're being, you don't have to. I'm not saying I don't appreciate it, but just that, well, I know how sad I was about it when we met; but I don't feel so bad anymore. Everything you've given me has more than replaced by wings, and everything you've shown me has replaced the trauma with joy."  
  
"You have grown strong over the course of our travels."  
  
"Aww, anyone would be strong with Crom Faeyr!"  
  
Onyx chuckled. "Remind me not to arm wrestle you when you have it in the other hand again! You have grown strong, my love, not just in your fighting and your magic, but in your character too. I hope you can understand how proud I am of you, and of us."  
  
"Thank you, my love. I feel so much strong and happier since we first met. And I will continue to quest with you, I want to very much. Thank you so much for doing this for me, and please return soon and safe. Now, you must depart early tomorrow, so enough talk." She pursed her lips, but as Onyx leaned in to kiss her, she playfully feigned further and further back and he did not reach her lips until she had the back of her head against the pillows.  
  
**********  
  
8 FLAMERULE 0600 ATHKATLA - JAN JANSEN RESIDENCE  
  
Early the next morning, Onyx, flanked by Minsc, Valygar and Jaheira, knocked on the door of the turnip-shaped residence. A peep-slot slid open in the door and a pair of beady eyes stared through. "Why, if it isn't Sir Onyx! Thanks for getting me out of that whole evading-taxes-while-selling- contraband mess. I sure tend to avoid the government district now! Well, in broad daylight anyway. You know, I've gotten into the monkey business - er, literally - and it's proved quite profitable so far. Gibbons and orangutans too."  
  
"I should be getting in," Onyx interrupted.  
  
"Oh yes, of course," Jan apologized and opened the door. The four came in and the gnome led them down the stairs to the basement. He walked over to a shelf of gadgets and yanked a lever disguised as a pipe on one of them. "Anomen, Arra, and Jarek are here already, as you'll see." As a secret door in the wall began to slide open, two voices could be heard wafting from the room on the other side.  
  
"Aw, can't a girl have a little fun with a sword?"  
  
"But...I'm not saying I don't approve of your doing it, I just don't think it'd befit a knight!"  
  
"C'mon, tin man, it's just a little poison. I'll rub it on for you. This one's topical, it'll do wonders even if the mace won't get to the bloodstream."  
  
"You're as bad as Onyx! He used to wield a poison flail, made from a very wyvern's tail! And now I hear he carries a vampiric sword!  
  
"Hey Anomen," Onyx grinned as the door finished sliding open and he faced Arra, who laughed out loud, and Anomen, who looked sheepishly at the knight he had just attempted to insult behind his back. "I guess backstabbing's okay for a knight!" he laughed. "Just kidding!" he added after letting Anomen redden with embarrassment for a moment. Onyx walked up and shook his hand jovially. "You forget to mention- I have a second poison flail now - added a few more heads to the Flail of Ages!"  
  
"Wow," Arra grinned mischievously, "Quite an arsenal you've got sheathed there."  
  
"Perhaps if he didn't spend so much time merely swinging steel about," Anomen puffed, "he'd have devoted more time to prayer and have more divine powers to show for it, eh?"  
  
"Well, my friend," Onyx took the insult in stride, "To each his own. That's what makes a versatile party."  
  
"I was just explaining that to my knight here," Arra grinned and looked back at Anomen, "And showing him a few of my talents. Blades and bows of all kinds, locks, traps, pockets, shadows, evocations, divinations, enchantments, illusions, you name it!"  
  
"Such boasting!" Anomen attempted to scold, but couldn't help breaking into a laugh at her theatrical gestures.  
  
"She's more than earned it," came a voice from the next room, and Keldorn walked in. "Glad to see you're all getting to know each other. But first things first. You all know your course, Beregost, and I've given Jarek, and Arra all the information we have on certain Chaos Circus personalities - their ringleaders, as it were - and they should know exactly what to do when you get there. If you must communicate in writing, they will go only by their agent numbers 006 and 007."  
  
"What about me?" Jan piped up.  
  
"Oh," Keldorn added, "You are 'Q' ."  
  
"Well, Q," Jarek said, "let's see what you've got for us, shall we?"  
  
The group looked over the room full of inventions and contraptions. Jan grabbed a case and opened it on a table in front of them. It contained an assortment of colored ammunition.  
  
"Arrows, bolts, bullets, and even throwing axes," Jan beamed. "The red ones cause fireballs, the orange ones explode - good for busting down walls -, the blue ones cause sleep, the white ones dispel."  
  
Jan opened another case, which had a dozen hand crossbows in it and some oddly-shaped bolts. "I call these grappling crossbows. The bolts have grappling hooks at the heads, and they trail ropes from the bolts back to the launcher. Like throwing a grappling hook, but with better range and accuracy."  
  
Jan opened a case of potions. "These babies are lifesavers if you get into a trap. When you drink the potion, your body will create e dimension door and immediately get whisked through it. But it's not perfected, and so where you'll end us is kinda random. Usually will be in the range of a few hundred yards though. Hopefully, far enough away to get out of whatever mess you're in, but not far enough to get lost."  
  
"And also," Jan gestured to a nearby wall lined with shelves of equipment, "as you can see, we've got all the usual times of stuff. Fire, acid, ice arrows, potions of healing, invisibility, strength, scrolls both divine and arcane, cases for your potions and scrolls, belts for your ammo, or bags for holding anything, you name it."  
  
"There will be horses waiting at the city gates for you." Keldorn informed. "That's it - suit up.'  
  
The agents went about gathering the crossbows, potion, and whatever ammunition or other equipment suited their professions. They then walked cohesively up the stairs, out of the Jansen residence, to and out the front gates of the city. There they mounted the horses that a pair of rangers had been holding for them, and rode north, toward a pass through the Cloudpeaks that would lead to Beregost.  
  
**********  
  
8 FLAMERULE 0700 NORTHERN AMN - FOOTHILLS OF THE CLOUDPEAK MOUNTAINS  
  
"Hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee."  
  
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"  
  
"HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO HOO!!!!!"  
  
Sitting in the last and most opulent wagon of a very long caravan, reclining on silk pillows, surrounded by scantily clad Erinyes tiefling maidens sweating pheromones and holding plates of nuts, fruitcakes, lemons, and hookahs of black lotus, was a man. The man wore elven chainmail whose links were shaped like skulls, boots whose pointed toes were cartoonishly large, puffy black-and-purple striped pantaloons and sleeves over the mail, wondrously shimmering gloves, and various jewelry that seemed enchanted. He also had a number of piercings and tattoos, and the top half of his mace was covered with a purple mask and he had a very thin moustache and goatee, giving his entire face an almost masklike appearance. He held a skull and was babbling, possibly at the skull, himself, or his company.  
  
"Saint!" he screamed. "Bring me a plaything, yes?"  
  
"Sure, Jester!" a man just outside the door called. Within moments, he came back in through the doorway of hanging bead-strings. The Saint wore no armor but had katanas slung over his back, and was easily carrying a shackled slave, a small, quivering moon elf. He let the slave drop to his knees before the Jester, and then held a crossbow up. "Myself or you?" he asked.  
  
"Us!" the Jester cackled and the Saint tossed him the crossbow. "Riddle me this, lovelies," he laughed, possible speaking to either his servants, The Saint, the slave, the skull, or himself.  
  
"What does man love more than life Fear more than death or mortal strife What the poor have, the rich require, and what contented men desire, What the miser spends and the spendthrift saves And all men carry to their graves?"  
  
The moon elf's lip quivered and he shook. The Saint kicked him in the knee. "Answer the Jester!" The Saint commanded.  
  
"Um...uh...I...I dunno..." the elf began to cry. The Saint kicked him again and the Jester aimed the crossbow at him. "I just don't know!" he cried. "I swear, I can think of nothing!"  
  
"AAAAAHHHHH!" the Jester dropped the crossbow and clasped his hands over his masked face. "The slavey gets us, yes, he solves our riddle! Oh woe! 'Nothing' answers our riddle, yes!"  
  
The Saint laughed and hoisted up the slave again, then threw him back through the bead-strings in the doorway. "Glad to see you're enjoying my moon elves!" he smiled at the Jester. "They're some of my favorites!" Because they're so expensive, he added mentally. And you waste them like candy. Well, plus I have a thing for them myself. Speaking of which, "Iri!" he yelled and clapped his hands.  
  
"Y-yes, lord?" a timid moon elf woman wearing loose leather bonds asked as she walked through the doorway.  
  
The Saint grabbed her roughly and sat with her on pillows across from the Jester. "And how's little 'rex?" he grinned fiendishly and rubbed her very pregnant belly.  
  
"F-fine, lord," she managed a sad smile.  
  
"Enough, it bores us!" the Jester screamed and tapped his fingers maniacally on his head. "We must discuss business!"  
  
"What's to discuss?" the Saint sighed as he lifted his mouth from a pushy kiss on Iri's to speak. "We went over it, prices and everything. When we go through the Cloudpeaks, my men'll rendezvous with this circus and deliver two score of the finest avariel we've captures from those mountains. Then, in Nashkel, two score sea elves fresh from the Sea of Swords."  
  
"We wants more Erinyes!" the Jester screamed and dropped his skull to grab the two such creatures closest to him.  
  
"I told you," the Saint sighed frustratedly, "I sent my Baatorians back to Sigil. They'll return with them as soon as they can. It's not easy to capture tieflings who can charm their captors just by sweating."  
  
"Not our problem!" the Jester screamed impatiently.  
  
"No, it is your problem, because higher costs mean higher prices," the Saint groaned in exasperation. "So does higher demand. Erinyes are catching on, and with the regional Zhentil slaving out of commission at the moment, only we can deliver them. You'll get your other elves as arranged, but for any more Erinyes, my prices have just doubled."  
  
"Curses, oh, curses!!" the Jester screamed and crushed the dropped skull beneath his boot. "Very well, we still wants whatever you can deliver."  
  
"Are you sure you can back that up with gold? I can't imagine the rabble of this region shell out more than a few coins a piece for your flea- ridden circus."  
  
"Ah, but it is within the tent that we makes the money! We bardses stroll through the audience and pickses the pocketses! The nobleses carry much, yes, and after the show, finding their precious things gone, blamses their own commoners for the thievsing yes! Hee hee hee hee!"  
  
"A toast then," the Saint smiled and held up a goblet of black wine. "To the Dark Sun!"  
  
"Follow the Dark Sun!" the Jester laughed and the two drank. 


	4. The Chase is On

4. The Chase is On  
  
8 FLAMERULE 2100 THE CLOUDPEAK MOUNTAINS  
  
Just before reaching the Cloudpeaks, the party, coming from the southwest, reached the trail of the circus, which had come from the southeast. It hardly took a ranger to track it, being marked by the deep groves from the wheels of overburdened wagons and an abundance of scattered trash. Food, paper, clothing, and even demihuman bones littered the road leading to the mountain pass. They party rode along into the pass and the trail continued.  
  
"Halt!" Valygar called and held up a hand. "They appear to have stopped here."  
  
"Camped?" Onyx asked.  
  
"No," Valygar shook his head, "I don't think this circus ever does. Between that and the heavy wagons, would explain why they supposedly restock horses continuously."  
  
Minsc gasped and covered Boo's ears. "Those bad circus-men would ride poor horsies to death? They must be evil indeed!"  
  
"At least we're finally agreeing on something," Jaheira sighed.  
  
"So why did they stop?" Arra asked impatiently.  
  
"It appears..." Valygar looked around, "there's another track coming down from the mountains themselves...like they rendezvoused with someone here. We should check this out."  
  
"Indeed," nodded Onyx while Valygar and Minsc hopped off their horses and begin to inspect the ground for clues. "Seeing as how the circus has been dealing with slavers, and there are avariel in these mountains, there's only one thing that comes to my mind."  
  
Jaheira growled under her breath. "Curse his avariel fetish. Curse it! Who does he think he is, Sir Courageous High Protector of Petite Blonde Elves Everywhere?"  
  
The fully elven woman's ears perked up at this comment. "So, Anomen, what's your elf fetish?" she asked the other knight, knowing he hadn't heard Jaheira, and grinning devilishly at his sudden surprise and discomfort.  
  
"I...what are you talking about, mi'lady?" he stammered.  
  
"C'mon, don't play dumb....drow? moon? sea?....avariel, like your fellow shiny-armored-knight?" she laughed as he reddened.  
  
"Why none!" he gasped.  
  
"Awww," she feigned offense, "You don't like elves?"  
  
"That's not what I meant!"  
  
"So you DO like elves, but just the regular kind?"  
  
"Why yes, I mean no, er um...ah, 'each lady is her own lady.' "  
  
"But do you have your own lady?" Arra laughed and he gave a simple head shake.  
  
"Slaves, all right!" Valygar called from off his horse. The other five dismounted and walked over to where he was, near some rocks at the side of the pass. "See those prints? Some of the group coming down from the mountains were shackled. I'd say about two score of 'em. There prints disappear alongside the tracks of the caravans, they were surely loaded in."  
  
"And the captors who brought them?" Onyx asked, but his question was answered by a bolt whizzing into his shoulder and piercing the armor. "Hit the dirt!" he cried.  
  
The seven ducked behind the rocks, but not several more bolts sailed into them from up the mountain. Only one other managed to get through armor, that was Arra's elven chain.  
  
"Poisoned!" she cursed, the irony not lost on her at all. "They get you too, knight?"  
  
"Yeah, but I'm immune," Onyx shook his head while Anomen handed Arra an antidote which she swigged in an instant.  
  
"I do say, they are good marksmen, pity their skills at hospitality are not as refined," Jarek quipped.  
  
The group, slouched behind their rocks, looked up at the bolts sailing overhead. "We're not quite pinned!" Arra decided. "I can magically deflect these missiles, I'll take them!"  
  
"My shield can offer me the same protection," Anomen joined as Arra nodded approvingly.  
  
"We'll have to do with our shields themselves," Onyx grinned at Jaheira as he drew the huge Fortress Shield from his tiny bag of holding, looking like a street magician. Jaheira drew out their tiny but unfailing Shield of Reflection.  
  
"Maybe we can kill or at least stall them with a little avalanche," Jarek grinned. He unstrapped his crossbow and loaded one of Jan's exploding orange arrows into it. Minsc, Valygar and Arra unstrapped their longbows and drew orange arrows. The archers, peering just over the tops of the rocks, quickly popped up to fire just above their assailants' position and ducked again. Screams could be heard as explosions over their heads caused rocks to roll down at them. The bolts stopped and screams and crunches could be heard.  
  
The seven all leapt from their hiding spots and charged up the narrow path.  
  
"Purple Sun Assassins!" Arra shouted, recognizing the Cyricist rogues. Onyx too recognized them from his recent confrontation with Cyric in his pocket plane. Before the party had gotten up the mountain to their position, some of them managed to rise from the rubble and start firing again. Jaheira, in front, reflected many of them back toward the assassins and a few of them were hit and poisoned by their own bolts. Any that got past Jaheira bounced off the magical cylinders around Arra and Anomen or were almost magnetically pulled onto Onyx's shield.  
  
The assassins drew their blades as the party got close. While flashing Belm about, Jaheira hooked her shield into her belt and drew a second weapon, the Water's Edge, from her back. With both scimitars blazing, she ran into the fray and slashed through Cyrcists. Arra and Anomen soon joined her on the rock terrace, smashing with a quarterstaff and mace. Onyx sprung onto the terrace and quickly beheaded an assassin with a vorpal slash from the Axe of the Unyielding, followed closely by Minsc, Valygar, and Jarek swinging their blades.  
  
Jaheira went into a whirlwind attack, becoming a cyclone and scimitars, and none of the rogues could even get close. Onyx used his large shield to crash into one and send him over the edge of the terrace, cracking his skull on the rocks below. Arra cast a chaos spell and half of the assassins turned on themselves or also went leaping mindlessly over the edge, while Anomen froze more with a hold spell and easily struck them down. Valygar danced around and slashed through them with his katanas Celestial Fury and Hindo's Doom, while Minsc cleaved them clean in two with his vorpal halberd Ravager and Jarek danced about slicing through them with some souvenirs from his trips to Kara-Tur and Calimshan.  
  
When only one assassin remained, held by Anomen's spell, the knight swung his mace at the rogue's head, but Arra parried the blow with a sword. "Questioning," she smiled, and the others held their weapons low. Minsc and Jaheira found themselves swigging antidote and healing potions, after which the party was none the worse for wear.  
  
The Purple Sun Assassin came back to life bound, but not gagged, and screaming and kicking furiously. "See if you can't charm him," Arra grinned at Valygar, who cast a charming spell over the rogue. He immediately stopped kicking and lay there passively.  
  
"Now," Arra smiled at him, "Who is your master?"  
  
"The mighty Cyric!" he laughed. "All hail the Dark Sun! We are the Favored of Cyric!"  
  
Arra sighed. "Who do you work for?"  
  
"The Prince of Lies!" he screamed. "Cower before him!"  
  
"What person sent you here?"  
  
"None! We camps here, then sees you snooping, and attacks!"  
  
"Why were you here?"  
  
"Deliver slaves!" he screamed. The party sighed with relief that at last they seemed to be making progress.  
  
"What kind? How many?"  
  
"Avariel! Two score! Pretty oneses, yes!"  
  
Onyx pounded a rock, hating being right.  
  
"To whom?" Arra continued.  
  
"Chaos Circus!"  
  
"Do you work for the Chaos Circus?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"You work for who sells the slaves?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"And who is that?"  
  
"Not know name! Just calls himself Sa-.errrmmm...Saint...OWWWW!!!!" the assassin began to writhe horribly and bleed out his ears, nose, and eyes.  
  
"What's happening?" Anomen asked. "It looks like some sort of..."  
  
"...geas," Arra nodded. "I've seen this before. They can be used to keep minions silent."  
  
"But he's charmed, he should answer if it kills him," Onyx looked confused.  
  
"Yes," Arra nodded, "but the pain literally keeps him from speaking. Okay, assassin, what is the name of the organization you work for?"  
  
"Nones that I know! I just works for the master!"  
  
"Hmmm...well perhaps you can tell us if he has a base of operations, and where?"  
  
"Yes!....ermmm...OWWWWWW-......OW....AAHHHHAHHHHAHHHHH!" the assassin's eyes popped out of his head, his veins puffed up and exploded through his skin, and after a final spasm he lay still.  
  
"I suppose he just couldn't take the pressure," Jarek quipped to Jaheira, who groaned.  
  
"Curse it!" Arra screamed and nearly cried, kicking the lifeless body. "The Thayvians did this too!" Anomen reached a hand out to her, but she swatted it away and continued to kick the body.  
  
After she'd had another minute to blow steam, Onyx broke the silence. "On to Beregost then, we shall learn more there."  
  
************  
  
9 FLAMERULE 1400 NASHKEL  
  
"And then did battle-drums resound And armies to them marched in pace Toward one another, and that ground Is now their final resting place."  
  
The traveling circus was passing through Nashkel, too small a hamlet to be worthy of a performance, but crewmembers were running alongside the caravan and posting flyers about the town encouraging its citizens to journey to nearby Beregost for their upcoming show. In the last car lay the Skald upon pillows. Like the Jester, he wore elven chain and a mask, and though his clothing had the same basic look, it fit well and was dapper rather than comical. He had a number of tattoos and piercings, but whereas the Jester's gave his face a more freakish look, the Skald's made his expressions more intense. He was devouring a leg of meat as Erinyes tieflings lay about and shackled sea elves were ushered in by The Saint's Purple Sun Assassins and pushed down upon the cushions around him.  
  
"Now that sea elves thou did provide And fresh indeed as the Skald craves; Take this chest of gold with pride And begone to catch us more rare slaves."  
  
After finishing this verse, the Skald theatrically pulled a gilded cord, causing a nearby curtain to life and reveal a treasure chest. The Saint opened and inspected it and, satisfied, he closed it and with superhuman strength effortlessly lifted the gold-filled chest with one arm and strolled out, snapping his fingers for Iri to follow.  
  
As the Saint and his brigands were running off, the Jester came cartwheeling into the room. He popped into a dramatic stance before the Skald and cleared his throat as two of the Erinyes tieflings approached him with wine and black lotus. He took a sip and a puff before demanding, "Riddle me this, Skald!"  
  
"I am a man, but also a monster, I am a hero, but also a fiend, My home is everywhere, but also nowhere, It is under the tent, but also upon the stage, Who am I?"  
  
The Skald grinned. "But that's as easy as riddling is for thee, orating is for me, and quipping is for he! For the answer is the Blade!"  
  
"He gets it, yes!" the Jester laughed and clutched his sides. "Contestant number three, come on down!!!!" He began playing a strange, showy tune on his arm as a third masked man walked into the room.  
  
"Greetings, all," the Blade bowed politely but theatrically to the Skald. "My heart doth flutter for joy at seeing my dear brothers again. Ah flutter, that word gives me pause, for a bird doth flutter, as doth anything with wings, eh? And have we wings, my fellows?"  
  
The Skald grinned and cleared his throat.  
  
"Two score wing-pairs have we of your true loves, That from the Saint we bought ourselves; You might say they belong to doves, But truly they belong to elves."  
  
The Blade's grin grew even wider. "A most fortunate happenstance for my rightfully joyous return! Produce the fair creatures that I might treat my eyes to a banquet!"  
  
The Skald did a dramatic spin and then pulled down another cord, lifting another curtain. Behind it was a large alcove of the room, already filled with cushions, wine, and some of the avariel the Saint had delivered at the Cloudpeaks.  
  
"A most wondrous fellow this The Saint must be!" the Blade exclaimed.  
  
"He cheatses us!" the Jester cried. "He doublses the prices for Erinyes, it makes Jester sad!" the Jester now wore a mask with teardrops painted under the eyes.  
  
"Cheer up, my gloomy parrot, you've still some about you, I see," the Blade smiled and put an arm over his brother, "Do try to see these last longer than the last batch, yes?"  
  
"Lecture us not!" Jester screeched. "You tookses not good care of your avariels before you left, and always were we the wings sawing off! Such waste!"  
  
"I disagree heartily," the Blade smirked, "They made ever such wondrous stew."  
  
"Mmmm," the Skald licked his thin lips, "As the appetizer to a nice fresh sea elf steak, of course."  
  
"Followed by elf moon pies!" the Jester laughed.  
  
"Prithee, good brother," the Blade hooked his other arm over the Skald's shoulders, "Who is this The Saint, anyway? I've not heard his name before. Does the Jeweler not still supply us?"  
  
"Oh," the Skald smiled, "The Saint works for the Jeweler. The master has become...reclusive...and sends the kensai to do his delivery and negotiation."  
  
"Oh, and a tough one he is!" moaned the Jester.  
  
"As long as his deliveries are made, I'll sing his name with praise!" the Blade sang.  
  
"And of the followers he brought with him," the Skald grinned.  
  
"Do tell, good brother," the Blade cajoled, "of the story of this Saint."  
  
"Very well. Ahem," the Skald stood, holding a tambourine, and began to beat it in rhythm.  
  
"When times were troubled and Bane did fall, And Bhaal and Myrkul too; It seemed strict good would consume all, And leave no places for a fool. Until the young Cyric, a mortal then, Their portfolios did collect; He spread insanity fast as the wind, Chaos keeping order in check. But Lathander and Tyr retook their seats, Upon the pantheon; With Helm, their followings filled the streets, Preaching order to everyone. Crazed priests of Cyric did wander and babble, Until the mortal man The Saint did unite the faithful rabble And hatch a clever plan. To fund the church of the Princes of Lies, And the conversion of more, He'd join the Jeweler's secret enterprise And brings slaves to our door!"  
  
"Bravo!" clapped the Blade.  
  
"Thank you, thank you," bowed the Skald.  
  
"Hoo hoo!" laughed the Jester.  
  
************  
  
CHARACTER INFORMATION THE BLADE, THE SKALD, THE JESTER, AND THE SAINT  
  
The Blade  
  
Male ????  
  
Chaotic Neutral  
  
Blade  
  
Level 30  
  
STR 18  
  
DEX 17  
  
CON 9  
  
INT 15  
  
WIS 13  
  
CHA 18  
  
Daggers ++  
  
Darts ++  
  
Shortswords ++  
  
Two Weapon Style +++  
  
  
  
The Skald  
  
Male ????  
  
Chaotic Neutral  
  
Skald  
  
Level 50  
  
STR 20  
  
DEX 17  
  
CON 9  
  
INT 17  
  
WIS 17  
  
CHA 16  
  
Axes ++  
  
Halberds ++  
  
Longbows ++  
  
Spears ++  
  
Quarterstaves ++  
  
Two-Handed Swords ++  
  
Two-Handed Style ++  
  
  
  
The Jester  
  
Male ????  
  
Chaotic Neutral  
  
Jester  
  
Level 50  
  
STR 20  
  
DEX 17  
  
CON 9  
  
INT 19  
  
WIS 3  
  
CHA 16  
  
Clubs ++  
  
Crossbows ++  
  
Darts ++  
  
Hammers ++  
  
Katanas ++  
  
Scimitars ++  
  
Two Weapon Style ++  
  
  
  
The Saint  
  
Male Human  
  
Neutral Evil  
  
Kensai  
  
Level 27  
  
STR 21  
  
DEX 21  
  
CON 21  
  
INT 18  
  
WIS 10  
  
CHA 15  
  
Daggers +++++  
  
Katanas +++++  
  
Two Weapon Style +++ 


	5. Losing My Religion

5. Losing My Religion  
  
9 FLAMERULE 1900 OUTSIDE NASHKEL  
  
After their confrontation in the Cloudpeaks, the party had ridden under the last rays of dusk through the Cloudpeaks, barely making it out of the treacherous pass before night fell, and ridden through the foothills and across the plains all night and the next day, and were just now reaching the environs of Nashkel.  
  
"Halt!" Valygar held up an open hand and the party held back their reins. "Another rendezvous here."  
  
Everyone immediately drew bows and scanned the area for another ambush. Valygar and Minsc hopped off their horses and began examining the tracks. "A cloud of bootprints and footprints meets up with the caravan while it's stopped," Valygar pointed out. "They must have hopped on board, at least for awhile."  
  
"Salty!" Minsc peered into one of the footprints. "Bare footprint with saltwater in bottom! As if walked out of ocean! Saltwater not evaporated, must be recent! The boots of heroes are getting close to the evil ringleaders' butts!"  
  
"From the ocean?" Valygar wondered. "Sea elves?"  
  
"Yes!" exclaimed Minsc. "The feet were thin like elves, and the toes were webbed like sea elves!"  
  
"If they trade in avariel, why not sea elves," Onyx grimaced. "In any case, we must pursue."  
  
The rangers mounted and the group continued riding. Nashkel was only a few more minutes to the north. As they reached the first farmsteads, Valygar stopped them again when he spotted another set of footprints leading away from the caravan. "The caravan didn't even stop to let these off," he examined. "The boots match the ones that got on, but the bare footprints aren't here - they're still on the caravan, no doubt."  
  
"And I wonder," Jarek mused, "Where the boots lead, eh?"  
  
"Indeed," Onyx nodded. "Jarek, you and Valygar follow them. If they lead somewhere in town, find their owners, hopefully drunk or asleep in a tavern. If you can easily overpower them yourselves, great, if not, reconvene with us to take them out together. If they lead into the wild, reconvene and we'll split up to follow them, as well as the circus to Beregost."  
  
"Splendid," Jarek grinned. "Arra and I know of a contact or two in this hamlet, might I suggest we pry them for information too?"  
  
"Yes," Arra nodded, "Father Optus, actually."  
  
"He is a Harper agent?" Anomen gasped.  
  
Arra laughed out loud. "Who better to be one than a follower of the All-Seeing Eye of Helm?"  
  
"Alright, you two visit him," Onyx commanded. "Minsc and Jaheira, see if the animals around here haven't seen or heard something useful."  
  
"Boo has already told you all he knows!" Minsc confessed.  
  
"No, no, Minsc, he means the LOCAL animals," Jaheira sighed. "We should link with them."  
  
"Get a bird's-eye view of the situation, so to speak," Jarek quipped.  
  
Anomen groaned at the pun. "Onyx, perhaps you should come with us. You aren't as stealthy as Jarek or Valygar, and last I heard you weren't a big communicator with animals, and."  
  
"Say," Onyx interjected and mused, "That reminds me. I need to get around to finding a bonded warhorse." Onyx's current horse, as if understanding, shot him a jealous glance.  
  
"...and, AHEM," Anomen scowled at the interruption, "Perhaps you should actually pay your respects to Helm once in awhile?"  
  
"I'm a paladin, not a priest, priest," Onyx dismissed the lecturing, "But fine. Everyone meet at the front of the temple of Helm in no more than an hour."  
  
The party split into the three groups. Jarek and Valygar followed the tracks, which did appear to lead within the town, Minsc and Jaheira wandered into the fields, which were interspersed with the buildings in the farm community, and Onyx, Anomen and Arra walked in the direction of the temple of Helm.  
  
**********  
  
9 FLAMERULE 1905 FIELDS OF NASHKEL  
  
"Keep your beady eyes peeled and your furry nose sniffing, Boo!" Minsc instructed his hamster. "What's that, you say? The hamster down there, she knows something?" The humongous ranger bent over and scooped a hamster off the ground. He set it on his shoulder and the two hamsters began chirping to each other. "What, Boo? You say she didn't see anything, but she's pretty and you think we should take her along? Boo, this is no time for such things!"  
  
Nearby, Jaheira closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and concentrated. She began to sense the presence of the birds over her head and the creatures romping through the grass around her. A sparrow swooped down, perched on her shoulder, and began singing. Jaheira cupped her hands and the sparrow hopped into them. The druid lightly placed the tip of her index finger on its forehead.  
  
Jaheira could see all of Nashkel from the air. Approaching it was the caravan. She saw a group of rogues, Purple Sun Assassins like those they had slain at the Cloudpeaks, waiting hidden in a copse of trees just ahead of the caravan but a safe distance outside of Nashkel. As the caravan approached, one gave a howl, a poor imitation of a wolf, and the first wagon slowly came to a halt, followed by the rest. The rogues emerged from the trees and lead forty shackled sea elves to the caravan. Some of the circus crew helped hoist most of them into one of the larger cars, but then they took eight of them back to the last caravan and loaded the rest in there. They hopped on and the caravan resumed moving. A few minutes later, the assassins emerged again, now headed by a tall figure with a treasure chest in one arm, two katanas over his back, and an unchained but docile moon elf lady by his side. The man barked some instructions at the rogues, some more directly at one of them, a pony tailed woman, then some at the elf. The elven lady began chanting a spell, and opened a dimension door, which she and the man stepped through. The rogues, acting more casual now, talked a moment among themselves and then wandered toward Nashkel and into a tavern, which Jaheira recognized from her Sword Coast adventures as the Belching Dragon.  
  
"Thank you," Jaheira whispered to the sparrow, and opened her hands to let it fly away.  
  
"No!" Jaheira's thoughts were interrupted by her ranger companion's shout. "No, you frisky hamsters! Not in my armor! Oh, get out!" A series of exciting squeaks could be heard emanating from within Minsc's armor as he frantically tried to unhinge it and pull it off.  
  
**********  
  
9 FLAMERULE 1920 NASHKEL - TEMPLE OF HELM  
  
Anomen glared left and right as he walked up the path to the temple of Helm. To his left and right, Onyx and Arra were reading the amusing tombstone inscriptions as they went by and laughing out loud.  
  
"It's bad enough that you laugh just outside a temple," he scolded, "But to mock the dead."  
  
"Aw, Ano," Arra laughed and tousled his hair, "Read these! They're meant to be funny!"  
  
Onyx pronounced, "Here lies the body of Rob. If not, please notify the undertaker at once," and laughed hysterically.  
  
Arra countered with, "Mike: I feel my body rising towards the bright light...wait, not it's falling...what the HELL!"  
  
Anomen sighed with relief as they reached the front doors of the church building and got through without his companions reading off any more tombstones. "Father Optus!" he cried as he looked to the altar and saw an aged figure in silver and blue. He noticed another priest wearing rose and bright yellow and adorned with the emblems of Lathander.  
  
"Ah, my dear son Anomen!" Father Optus cried happily, outstretched his arms and stepped down the altar toward the knight. "This is Lady Dawn Raybringer, priestess of Lathander. She has just brought me news from Athkatla, including that of your completing your Order trials! Congratulations, my boy! I see you've brought friends - ah, Miss Flyte, good to see you again - say, sir, you wouldn't be that Onyx fellow? I can't tell you how grateful Nashkel is for that bit you did routing the saboteurs of the mines around here! My grandson's been yammering he wants to be a paladin ever since! Truly good work, sir, truly! Say, I was thinking, Anomen may have mentioned this, Onyx, have you considered joining the hallowed ranks of the Watcher Knights?"  
  
"I have suggested this," Anomen added and glared at Onyx, "He isn't exactly the most pious of paladins and a little more faith in the Watcher might suit him well."  
  
Onyx tried to hold a poker face. "Well, the last contact I had with Helmite Knights was a group that tried to seal us inside Watcher's Keep with Demogorgon. Things didn't end up so well for the knights, thanks to him, or the demon prince, thanks to me."  
  
Dawn let out a muffled laugh. "Ah yes, the already-legendary slayer of Demogorgon! You know, Onyx - pleasure to finally meet you, by the way - I was just thinking what a fine Morningknight you'd make. Why, look at you, you're practically the spitting image of the athletic and handsome Morninglord himself!"  
  
Onyx tried to suppress a wide grin with a polite one as Optus mediated, "Now, Dawn, pridefulness is not something either faith would want to appeal to."  
  
"Oh, I disagree," huffed Anomen, "quite a vain one is Lathander," he glared pointedly at Onyx while speaking the god's name, "Quite given to excess and opulence the Dawnbringer is. Why, he hardly seems to care about governing the world like Helm, he's more interested in playing sports and courting Chauntea!"  
  
"Ah, but look at what good has already come of it," Dawn smiled, "Wondrous benefits to all have spawned from his close alliance to the Earthmother, and through her Eldath and Mielikki and rangers," she walked aside Onyx and leaned close to whisper to him; Anomen and Optus politely avoided eavesdropping and mumbled to one another, while Arra appeared to listen in on the Helmites' conversation but with a pointed ear perked high.  
  
"Onyx," Dawn whispered, "I can divine more of your heart than you know. It is as clear to me as the bottom of a mountain pond when struck by the rays of dawn. Though long at odds with the druid ethos, I know that you sometimes feel a ranger's call in your heart. I know that you wandered outside of Candlekeep as a child and across the Sword Coast and Amn since. I don't need to be able to detect the vampiric aura of Blackrazor at your belt to know that you believe in a time for bending rules. The faiths of Helm and Tyr hold them strict and sacrosanct, but Lathander is more neutral, Onyx. He understands the importance of achieving good above the unthinking abeyance of laws. I can feel the same tugging in your heart away from strict lawfulness toward pure good. I know there's a line you won't cross, but you wouldn't have to. Take this, Onyx," she slipped a ring into Onyx's hand, "It bears the insignia of Lathander's paladins, the Order of the Aster. I know of your mission, and you will need to shine the light of truth upon the lies of your enemies. Wear it with pride, and speak to me again at the temple of Lathander when you return victorious to Athkatla."  
  
"Thank you, Dawn," Onyx whispered back and slipped the ring on as she leaned away again.  
  
"I was just telling Anomen," Optus 'happened' to say just then, "That I'd heard a group of rogues had just gotten in to the Belching Dragon last night. Perhaps they work for the organizations you seek?"  
  
"Quite possibly," Arra nodded. "Two of our party are probably already there."  
  
**********  
  
9 FLAMERULE 1930 NASHKEL - THE BELCHING DRAGON TAVERN  
  
Valygar and Jarek strolled into the Belching Dragon. "Why, quaint little joint, eh?" Jarek smirked. Valygar nodded silently while scanning around. "You check out the back rooms, chap, I'll try to fish something out of the crowd up here." Valygar left his side to go down one of the hallways, and Jarek quickly judged who was most likely to know about - or be - who they were looking for. At one of the card tables he noticed a woman wearing leather armor, which imperfectly concealed a multitude of hidden daggers.  
  
"What's the game, ladies and gents?" he asked in his typical brogue while sitting down.  
  
"Eight-card Spider," droned the dealer, "Ante up or get out."  
  
"But of course," Jarek nodded politely and anted. The cards were dealt and Jarek barely lifted his off the table to peek at them. The two to his left passed and Jarek called a large raise. The woman to his left saw and raised again and the next two, including the dealer, folded. One of the remaining two saw and the other folded.  
  
"I'll....raise you again," Jarek challenged the woman and slid more coins out.  
  
"And I'll see you anytime," she smirked back and slid out the same number. The one remaining player folded.  
  
"Don't suppose you'd care for a third," Jarek arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Go ahead, raise me higher," she arched back. Jarek slid out another small pile of coins, and the woman followed without a further raise.  
  
"That's it," Jarek smiled. "Time to show it all," they each flipped over the cards and the woman let out an unrestrained curse.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'd thought you were rather enjoying this," Jarek feigned disappointment.  
  
"It was fun, but over much too fast," the woman sneered. "Might I have the honor of your name, sir?"  
  
"Bond. Jarek Bond. And you?"  
  
"Oh, I'm Bucki. Bucki Ryder."  
  
"But of course you are. What do you drink?"  
  
"Blood. Bloodwine, I mean."  
  
"Waiter!" Bond called. "One bloodwine, and one vodka martini. Shaken, not stirred."  
  
"So what brings you to Nashkel, Mr. Bond?" Bucki asked.  
  
"Just passing through, actually, on business. Thought I'd come in and see what pastimes this nice quaint town has to offer."  
  
"Well, Mr. Bond," Bucki shook her hair back suggestively, "I have offer that might be to your liking; whether you consider it business or pastime is up to you."  
  
"Funny; I was just about to ask if you'd join me in a different sort of game," Jarek let his cards drop fall from his hand.  
  
"Right this way, Mr. Bond."  
  
Meanwhile, Valygar was wandering through the halls, keeping to the shadows to maintain a low profile. He heard lots of noise coming from behind one door and paused, placing an ear against the wall. He could hear drunken laughter from within, and peered through the keyhole. A number of Purple Sun Assassins lay about the room, whistling and catcalling to the performance of a stripper. Valygar drew away and immediately crept back down the hall. He had to gather Jarek and the others and take them out. He went back to the bar, but Jarek was gone, as was the woman in leather he'd seen the swashbuckler approaching when they parted. He looked at the grandfather clock against the wall. It had almost been an hour. He needed to get back to the temple of Helm, and hoped that was where Jarek had gone. He ran back up and down another hallway once more, listening out for Jarek, but finding nothing, went back out the front doors and raced to the temple.  
  
**********  
  
9 FLAMERULE 1950 NASHKEL - THE TEMPLE OF HELM  
  
Onyx, Anomen and Arra had continued discussing theology with Dawn and Optus, but as the hour neared they stepped out the front doors of the temple to meet up with their comrades. Minsc and Jaheira soon found them and Jaheira reported what they had seen.  
  
"Thank you Jaheira; excellent work; your druidic skills have become impressive indeed," Onyx nodded, softening her usual glare. "Valygar and Jarek would thus be at the Belching Dragon, or coming back from it about now. I know we agreed to meet here, but we can already see the back of the building across the way, let's just go around both sides and we'll be sure not to miss them."  
  
They had scarcely gotten back down the path through the tombstones when Valygar ran up to them and reported finding the assassins and not finding Jarek. Arra groaned. "That Jarek, I think I know what he's up to. Let's get those assassins, if he's not already among them, he'll pop up soon enough."  
  
**********  
  
9 FLAMERULE 2005 NASHKEL - A ROOM AT THE BELCHING DRAGON TAVERN  
  
"Oh, Mr. Bond!"  
  
"Yes, darling?"  
  
"A break, please! There's a decanter of scotch on the table across the room, fetch it dear will ya?"  
  
"But of course, Bucki," he gave her a squeeze as he hopped up.  
  
While he strode across the room, Bucki reached under the bed where she lay and grabbed and flipped open a pouch she had hidden there. Inside were a few darts, and some green and blue vials or liquid. She began to open the green vial, then, looking at him, dapperly pouring the drinks, she hesitated, replugged the vial, and opened the blue one instead. She dipped the head of one of the darts into it. She sat up on her knees on the bed and craned her arm for a toss. Just as Jarek was picking up the glasses and turning, she tossed the dart expertly. It sunk into Jarek's neck and he dropped the glasses, which spilled and shattered while he clutched his neck. He looked up at her and tried to clamber across the room, but soon crashed to the floor in a drugged sleep.  
  
"Sweet dreams, Mr. Bond," she cackled and stepped over him while rubbing her foot against his back and licking her lips.  
  
**********  
  
9 FLAMERULE 2010 NASHKEL - THE BELCHING DRAGON TAVERN  
  
The other six adventurers were poised just outside the door that Valygar had led them to. Arra's elven ears were perked up. "The stripper is still in there, we'll have to watch she doesn't get caught in the crossfire."  
  
The other adventurers nodded. They were all experienced enough to know how to fight with an innocent amidst the enemy. No indiscriminate evocations, no confusing the enemy, who might then attack the innocent, and no missile aimed without care.  
  
Onyx and Minsc stood just in front of the door, holding two longswords or maces high. Jaheira and Anomen stood behind them, scimitars and mace raised or ready to invoke divine magic. To either side of them, Valygar and Arra had their longbows drawn.  
  
"One..two..three!" Onyx counted and he and Minsc kicked the door open. Their combined strength sent it flying across the room and flattening one of the assassins against the far wall. The rest shouted and drew daggers or swords while the stripper clutched her arms around her body and ran screaming to the opposite end of the room.  
  
Onyx and Minsc immediately charged and smashed and slashed down the first pair of assassins. Anomen and Jaheira cast hold and entangle spells into the fray, and assassins froze midswing or yelped as vines broke through the floorboards and ensnared them. Two arrows whizzed by Minsc's head and plunged into two more assassins, then Valygar fired a second arrow to finish one off while Arra cast chain lightning and guided it from assassin to assassin, around the party and the stripper.  
  
Onyx grimaced as an assassin seemed to come out of nowhere and managed to slip a dagger through his armor into his back. He felt the poison neutralize in his blood and immediately turned to skewer the assassin on Blackrazor. Absorbing the rogue's energy, he continued to swing about with greater strength and sent other hurtling into a wall. Two assassins jumped up on top of Minsc and he screamed hysterically and brained them with his maces while they tried to stab through his helmet. He struck one with his mace Stormstar a second time, sending another circuit of chain lightning through them. They fell off him, sizzling and screaming, and he finished them off.  
  
Several rogues bolted for the door and came face to face with Jaheira, who dual-scimitar-beheaded one in a blinding flash or curved steel, and Anomen, who knocked one back with his shield and then called a column of flame down to incinerate the helpless thief. Another popped out of the shadows and lunged with a shortsword at Anomen's back, but Valygar's arrow whizzed through his forearm and pinned it to the doorway, leaving him helpless against Anomen's mace as it crashed down on his head.  
  
Just then Jaheira, Anomen, Valygar, and Arra all yelped in pain as a fireball blossomed among them. Jaheira shot an accusing glance back at Arra, but then noticed one of the enemy assassins incanting magic. Arra began chanting back at the apparent thief-mage, and before he could finish his spell, she'd sent a horde of flame arrows flying into his chest. They burned his leather but fizzled harmlessly against his skin, but then Valygar's next arrow pinned him through the neck, disrupting and slaying him.  
  
After a few more swings from Onyx and Minsc, only two frozen assassins remained. While Anomen and Onyx cast healing spells on their comrades, and various party members swigged antidote and healing potions as necessary, Minsc and Valygar held their hands out but each had to cast several times to charm the two rogues, but managed to do so before they unfroze.  
  
"Okay," Anomen cautioned, "no proper names, or placenames?"  
  
"That's what it usually is," Arra sighed.  
  
"Okay, thieves," Jaheira began, thinking back to her sparrow, "You delivered about forty sea elves to the circus here, yes?"  
  
"Yes yes!" they nodded in unison.  
  
"And your master, he's a tall man with two katanas?"  
  
"Yes yes!"  
  
"Would it hurt you if you told us where he teleported to?"  
  
"Oh...yes...please don't!!! ohh!" They clasped their hands over their ears and eyes and trembled.  
  
"Unless," Valygar began darkly, "You're going to get something else out of them first, we might as well try."  
  
Onyx nodded and Jaheira shot them both scowls. "Evil and good alike are the earth's children all."  
  
"Fine," she continued, "Do you know where the circus is going after Beregost?"  
  
They shook their heads.  
  
"What instructions did your master give you?"  
  
"Go back to Athkatla! To conduit behind stage of Five Flagons Theater!" one yammered. "Meet master's Baatorian tieflings in Sigil to help them capture Erinyes kind!" babbled the other.  
  
Arra yanked off the hood of the dead thief-mage. "This one is a Baatorian tiefling! No wonder he was immune to my flame arrows!"  
  
Lots of eyebrows went up around the room but Jaheira continued. "Is your master's base east, west, north, or south of here?"  
  
"W-....OWWWWW!!!!" "w...AAH!" they began screaming and clutched their heads.  
  
"Okay, stop! You don't have to tell me!" Jaheira commanded them quickly and their pain subsided.  
  
"You know," Valygar mused, "If we can get the first sound of any word, we could probably piece it all together."  
  
"Indeed," Onyx scratched his chin, "Master is called a saint, or 'the Saint' maybe, base is to the west....but what's west of Nashkel? You hit the ocean pretty fast."  
  
"Tell me," Jaheira began, "would it hurt you to write down the location?"  
  
Both assassins nodded their heads fearfully.  
  
"Try yes or no questions," Arra suggested. "It usually hurts, but they can get a head nod or shake off and then the pain subsides."  
  
"Is it the gnoll stronghold? Minsc and Onyx and Jaheira once went west from here to rescue dear Dyanheir!" Minsc asked. Both assassins shook their heads, and spasmed for a moment, but then it subsided when they stopped.  
  
"Is it in the Cloudpeaks or further south?" Onyx asked. They shook their heads and spasmed again. "As far north as Beregost or further?" another negative. He and Jaheira exchanged confused glances. There wasn't much left matching those parameters. "Is it underground?" another negative. "An island?" This time one nodded its head and one shook it.  
  
"Great," Anomen groaned. "A difference of opinion."  
  
Just then the charm spells wore off. The two assassins screamed and the warriors surrounded them closely. One dove under a bed but Minsc grabbed his legs and pulled him back out. The other jumped onto a chandelier but Arra shot a volley of magic missiles that sent the fixture crashing to the floor with him. Arra then began chanting a charm person spell at him while Valygar began charming the other one, but both assassins, whimpering like lunatics, drew out poisoned daggers and stabbed themselves through the hearts.  
  
"Dammit!" Arra cried as her spell fizzled against the lifeless body.  
  
"I can resurrect them," Anomen reassured her and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Don't bother," she moaned and put her hand over his. "I recognized the purplish-black shine of that vile poison on their daggers. It's a neurotoxin, even if you brought them back, their minds would be scrambled."  
  
"I'd say they were pretty scrambled already," Jaheira sneered.  
  
"Well, there's only one thing to do now," Onyx stated while exchanging nods with Valygar, "Find the ringleaders and interrogate them."  
  
"Why you still hiding under the bed, lady?" Minsc asked the cowering stripper. "Only heroes are left, and we will avert our righteous eyes while the innocent lady dresses and leaves the tavern for good to start a better life!" He had gathered up the clothing she'd left strewn about the room and placed it in the bare arm, which reached out from under the bed to snatch it.  
  
A few minutes later, a disheveled but clothed woman emerged and gave a quiet "Thank you," before creeping out of the room.  
  
"Actually," Arra corrected, "There are two things. We still need to find Jarek."  
  
Onyx counted the number of bodies strewn about the floor. "Seventeen. Great job guys, by the way. Jaheira, could you tell how many there were from your, um, sparrow-vision?"  
  
Jaheira closed her eyes and concentrated. "There were eighteen."  
  
The other members of the party, except Minsc of course, all gave knowing, melancholy nods. "And you said the master gave spoke to one of them specifically, a woman, not the one he teleported away with?"  
  
"Yes. She looked to be a human female, fairly fall and shapely, in leather like the others, was rather tight actually, had a long blonde ponytail," she recollected.  
  
"Oh, Jarek," Arra sighed. "I didn't need any sparrow to tell me that. Well, let's see who's checked in lately."  
  
After quickly searching the bodies for useful clues or treasures, of which they found none beyond a few coins and some weakly enchanted weapons and ammunition, Onyx tossed a generous number of coins on the table for the housekeepers' trouble of cleaning up the seventeen bodies the party had added to the furnishings of the room.  
  
The party went back to the bar. Jaheira described the woman in question to the bartender, who acted befuddled until Jaheira slipped him a few coins, at which point his memory seemed to return and he gave directions to one of his rooms.  
  
The party went back down another hallway, but the door to the room was stuck shut. Arra quickly picked it and the group spilled into the room. There was broken glass and spilled scotch on the floor, and the bed was a complete mess, with most of the sheets ripped in half, nail scratches all over the headboard, and bitemarks in some of the pillows, many of which had been thrown across the room.  
  
"It must have been a mighty fight!" Minsc gasped. The others rolled their eyes, the proper forensic inferences obvious to them.  
  
"You could say that," Arra sighed, "Well friends, this is 007 for you." She looked down and noticed a few drops of bluish liquid amongst the broken glass. She kneeled down, touched her fingertip to it, and brought it up to her nose and sniffed it. "Tranquilizer poison," she explained, "For when you want to capture - not kill."  
  
Onyx asked "Other than Jarek's continued absence, are we sure of who got whom? We did pick up sleeping ammunition from Jan, er, 'Q'."  
  
Valygar was carefully inspecting the rest of the room, putting his tracking skills to the task of indoor forensics. "Note the scratchmarks on the headboard - there's paint lodged in the grooves, so unless Jarek painted his nails after we parted," he winked at the group, "they must be her's...now, over by the window, which has clearly been climbed out of, we see more scratches on the windowsill, and those are also hers."  
  
"Could she have carried Jarek's unconscious body out?" Onyx wondered. "She must be pretty strong, or else have stuffed him in a bag of holding or something."  
  
"She could have lowered him out on a rope, then stolen a horse and rode off," Anomen suggested. "In any case, he is in grave danger and must be rescued!"  
  
"Well, yeah," Arra smiled at him, "But 007 kinda has a knack for these things, so I wouldn't get too worried just yet. Let's get to Beregost and kick some butt under the big top. The way to the slavers is surely the way to him." Turning to the door, the normally extremely dexterous lady yawned and in doing so knocked her elbow against a bedpost. She coughed and stumbled sideways, but quickly regained her balance with a little help from Anomen. "Heh, sorry guys, I'm fine," she smiled with chagrin.  
  
"No," Jaheira shook her head, "You are fatigued, child."  
  
"Child?" Arra snapped back, "I'm - YAWN - not a child!"  
  
"She says that to everyone," Onyx chuckled, earning a laugh from Valygar and a glare from Jaheira. "It's okay, we have been riding hard for days."  
  
"Well, Sir Stamina," Jaheira continued glaring, "I don't recall you being so compassionate to us on our last adventure."  
  
"Jaheira," Onyx sighed, "I know...now's that the time to discuss this." Jaheira stared him down and Onyx gave her an unspoken but understood promise to resume the matter later. "But perhaps Anomen's right. With Jarek in enemy hands, every hour we delay could mean his death."  
  
"SeriYAWNously," Arra leaned against Anomen, "He does this all the time. Sometimes I almost think it's his deliberate way of infiltrating the enemy."  
  
"Gutsy," Onyx smirked with approval, "Bold and unconventional. I like it."  
  
"Perhaps it's unconventional because it's so obviously stupid," Anomen opined and Jaheira nodded in agreement.  
  
"Though he is in danger," Onyx continued, "He's been taken by the slavers, not the circus, and unless someone knows of a place west of here that's both an island and not island, we're going to have to go through the circus to get to them. And I think it's actually going to be easiest to infiltrate the circus during or after a show, not while they're setting up; they'd all be together in large numbers then. Now, as fresh as the tracks of the caravan were, and based on the flyers in town, the first show in Beregost will be tomorrow night. We easily have time to spend tonight here and ride to Beregost by midday tomorrow..."  
  
"Onyx?" Valygar interjected, "I can see the consensus for staying here the night, so perhaps we discuss plans for tomorrow in our own rooms, rather than a few doors down from seventeen bodies we've just added to the furnishings."  
  
"Er," Onyx grinned sheepishly, "Good plan." The group left the Belching Dragon and headed across the village to the Nashkel Inn - less likely to be ambushed, lest another squad of assassins were on their way to the Belching Dragon congress with the one they'd dispatched - and got a suite of rooms for the night and hammered out there plan of attack for Beregost there after grabbing a surprisingly edible dinner in the main room.  
  
**********  
  
Dawn Raybringer  
  
Female Human  
  
Neutral Good  
  
Cleric of Lathander  
  
Level 20  
  
STR 16  
  
DEX 17  
  
CON 16  
  
INT 12  
  
WIS 17  
  
CHA 15  
  
Clubs +  
  
Flails +  
  
Hammers +  
  
Maces +  
  
Slings +  
  
Whips +  
  
Sword and Shield Style +  
  
  
  
Bucki Ryder  
  
Female Human  
  
Neutral Evil  
  
Purple Sun Assassin  
  
Level 20  
  
STR 17  
  
DEX 17  
  
CON 15  
  
INT 13  
  
WIS 11  
  
CHA 18  
  
Crossbows +  
  
Daggers +  
  
Darts +  
  
Short Bows +  
  
Shortswords +  
  
Whips +  
  
Single Weapon Style + 


	6. Inn Sanity

6. Inn Sanity  
  
9 FLAMERULE 2200 NASHKEL - THE NASHKEL INN  
  
Onyx, Anomen, Minsc, and Valygar occupied the larger front room of the suite. Only Valygar was actually in it at the moment. Minsc and Onyx were downstairs at the moment clobbering some off-duty Flaming Fist guards at armwrestling, while Jaheira was cheering them on from the bar while sipping Firewine.  
  
Valygar would surely otherwise have been with them - though not as strong as the other two, he had a knack for armwrestling with clever and agile leveraging - except that he had stayed in the room to write a letter. Properly decoded, it read:  
  
Dear Nalia,  
  
I am addressing this letter to the residence of Eroanne and hopefully it finds you. We gain upon those that we pursue, have dispatched two squads of slavers already, and I would say our quest goes well except that one of our party, whom you do not know, has been captured, if not already killed. This but adds to the resolve of those who remain as we continue our quest.  
  
Despite the hopefully-temporary loss, I feel we shall succeed. As you must have seen during your continued adventures with three of my current companions, their skills have only grown since I last was alongside you and them in that vampiress's lair, as I'm sure yours must have, impressive though they already were then, contrary to your modesty on the matter. My two other remaining companions, whom I had not before met, too are most capable.  
  
As such, I believe and hope I shall return soon. If you do decide to venture with your friends to Candlekeep, it is as well, for afterwards I plan to go with some of my companions there very briefly (or perhaps not as briefly should I find you there). I would say that I was fortunate that I got to cross paths with you again so soon after your victory, except that it was part and parcel of me choosing to intercept your group myself. And similarly, I am looking forward to seeing you again after this quest, and despite my love of adventure and belief in the mission, that thought motivates me towards its swift completion.  
  
Yours, V  
  
Meanwhile, back downstairs, Onyx and Minsc had defeated every willing and able patron of the tavern in armwrestling, and so now only one challenge remained....each other. Onyx, though slightly weaker than Minsc when they had met, had been enhanced several times over his adventures, and was now much greater in sheer strength. On the other hand, Minsc was still taller and had longer arms, giving him a leverage advantage, not to mention the chance of a berserk rage fueling his muscles when most needed. Onyx dared not "cheat" and call upon holy might to win the match with ease, although in such a casual setting it still would have been an amusing practical joke.  
  
Patrons backed away, fearing that, despite the friendly bond between the paladin and the ranger - who had first met just outside this very inn long ago - there were inadvertent chances that the table itself might break or someone might go flying across the room. Minsc and Onyx were hunched over opposite sides of the table, right elbows planted squarely on the wood, left hands behind backs, right hands clasped tight but motionless, four brave volunteers holding the fists in place. Jaheira had moved up from the bar to the next table, and was watching intently her warrior comrades, both of whom had scarcely left her side since their meetings at the Friendly Arm Inn or in this very town of Nashkel so long ago. She felt a mix of joy and pride for the strength and eagerness of her longtime warrior comrades, and some motherly disgust at their somewhat juvenile machismo.  
  
"Okay," a fifth volunteer shouted from Jaheira's table, "One...two....three!!"  
  
The other four volunteers hastily let go of the clasped hands and jumped back, and not a moment too soon, for in the first moments of the duel, their hands oscillated to each side a few times before locking back in an upright. Onyx concentrated hard and began to push Minsc's huge arm downwards.  
  
"What should be do, Boo?" Minsc cried to his hamster companion. "We cannot lose to our very good evil-skull-cracking friend!" Boo leapt out of Minsc's pocket and, rather and squeak in his master's ear, began to nip it. "No Boo no! You know that makes Minsc very angry. Ow! Quit it! I am getting VERY ANGRY BOO! BAD BOO! BAD! ARRRRRRRGH!!!!!!!!"  
  
"Sweet Torm!" Onyx gasped as Minsc's face went red and he began frothing at the mouth while managing to push Onyx's arm back the other way and soon regaining the advantage. Onyx struggled, soon going only inches above the table. He concentrated harder, his face reddening, and began to slowly push his way back up as Minsc's berserk rage gradually lost steam. At last they were locked again, but then Boo crawled up on top of Minsc's bald head and began dancing on it.  
  
"No Boo no! No dancing! Bad hamster!" Minsc screamed, but didn't quite fly into another rage. Boo let out a disappointed squeak, then a more frightened one as Onyx pushed Minsc's arm to within an inch of the table, and quickly scurried back down into Minsc's clothing again. Within moments, a much higher-pitched squeak could be heard, followed by another than sounded more like Boo's.  
  
"No Boo! Do not get frisky with Bebe again! Bad Boo! Bad! Oh no! Stop that Boo! Surely our room has a nice little hamster-hole in the wall you could use! STOP IT BOO STOP IT NO BAD FRISKY HAMSTERS YOU MAKE MINSC VERY ANGRY BLARRRRGH!!!!!!"  
  
"Bane's buttocks!" Onyx shouted as Minsc went into another rage and pushed their arms back up, but this time the paladin managed to keep his arm upright.  
  
They struggled and both leaned in, putting more weight behind their arms. Much of this weight was being pressed through their elbows onto the table though, that is to see, perhaps a ton of force being thrust into an area the size of two adjacent elbows. Unfortunately, this just happened to over a knot in one of the boards making up the surface of the table. Slight cracks began to radiate out from the knot across the wood, and some of the other patrons wisely took steps back, fearing the worst. Others outright cringed behind the bar or even jumped out of windows or dashed down halls. At last the table groaned and cracked, and the two grimacing warriors, staring into each others' eyes and seemingly oblivious to the table's failing integrity, plunged their elbows through the table and, falling toward, cracked heads and fell onto the table, smashing it with both their bodies.  
  
This is turn sent table legs and boards flying about the room into people and drinks. A few pieces flew toward Jaheira, who caught them with lightning reflexes - otherwise it would have been most unfortunate - for Minsc and Onyx, that is. Boo and Bebe went flying out of Minsc's pocket, flying through the air together in a most embarrassing position, and landing in Jaheira's wine goblet. Rather than squeaking with fright, they simply began to lounge against the edge of it and purr, as if in their own miniature champagne bath. Unfortunately for them, Jaheira was none too pleased at this new development and spilled them out onto her table. She then set her goblet down and, fuming with her hands on her hips, grabbed both men on the floor by their collars and yanked them up to their feet, thanks both to her anger and her belt of stone giant strength.  
  
"WHAT WERE YOU OAFS THINKING!" she scolded them, putting her hands back on her hips. "You could have hurt someone, even yourselves! And look at all the damaged you've caused."  
  
"Well, yeah," Onyx grimaced sheepishly while Minsc scooped up Boo (and, reluctantly, Bebe), "But the patrons I think found this the most entertaining of all." The patrons, coming out from their various hiding places, were starting to chuckle and toast to the entertaining spectacle and the strength of their new friends. "I'll reimburse the keep for it, thought, of course, though I suspect it's probably helped his business."  
  
"You betcher," laughed a farmer, "Why, we ain't seen such a show in here since that cleric...hey, weren't you the three that killed that cleric in here 'bouts a year ago? War's that lil lass an' the half-elfer man wot wuz with ya?"  
  
"Tarnesh deserved a royal butt-kicking for trying to hunt down Onmmmmmmf," Minsc declared while Jaheira put her hand over his mouth.  
  
"Do I have to remind you show-off barbarians," she hissed under her breath, "That are supposed to be keeping a low profile? Now you've gotten us recognized..."  
  
"Three cheers fer tha Heroes of the Nashkel Mines!" the farmer lifted his mug of mead and the other patrons followed. "Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray! Hip hip, hooray!"  
  
Minsc and Onyx were trying to not quite confirm this while also not looking ungrateful while Jaheira grabbed them by the ears and led them back to their room, fuming the whole way. She slammed the door behind her angrily, causing even the usually stoic and calm Valygar to jump out of his seat and nearly spill his ink well over his just-finished letter. He sheepishly tried to fold it up before anyone took an interest in its contents, and luckily for him, the other three were busy scolding or getting scolded.  
  
"You.....morons!!!" she shouted at them. "Don't EVER do anything like that again! There could have been assassins in the crowd just waiting for you get off guard like that! Not to mention you could have easily impaled someone - like me - with a flying table leg. Or even hurt each other; I don't care how tough you each think you are. Look at yourselves - a paladin and a ranger, acting like careless swashbucklers or mindless barbarians! You're supposed to be protecting people and their farms, not endangering them and destroying their property for your own childish amusement! You should both be ashamed!"  
  
"Minsc is sorry, Jaheira," Minsc hung his head in shame, "Minsc gets carried away sometimes but means no harm. Boo also reprimands him for just outbursts."  
  
"I...know, Minsc, just be more careful in the future, perhaps play outdoors, as it were, big ranger?" Jaheira softened. She turned to face Onyx and Minsc sat down on a sofa, furrowing his brow and muttering to Boo. Valygar, taking a glaring cue from Jaheira, patted his ranger friend on the shoulder and took him back downstairs for a few rounds.  
  
"And you," Jaheira's eyes narrowed as Onyx faced her alone, "He can hardly help it, bless his soul, but you, despite current appearances, are no idiot-paladin, like most of your kind, and should definitely know better. You're supposed to be keeping as low a profile as Sir Big Hero of Nashkel, Baldur's Gate, Trademeet, Suldanesellar, Amkethran, The World, whatever can, you're supposed to be a leading-by-example paladin, you're supposed to be treading lightly since between Blackrazor and your bloodline you're already controversial enough among the Order, you're..."  
  
"...a fool for having endangered you," Onyx finished for her. "I'm sorry. Truly. I had no idea the match would literally explode like that. I should be wise enough to anticipate such things though, and I am, so there's no excuse."  
  
Jaheira's jaw dropped open, speechless.  
  
"Of course I'm not going to fight you," Onyx read her thoughts and continued calmly, "You're right."  
  
"Say that again," she said, trying to appear stern as if demanding verbal retribution.  
  
"You're right," Onyx repeated warmly, knowing she just loved to hear it. "You're right, Jaheira."  
  
Jaheira scowled inwardly. Why the hell did he always have to make her melt like that? She was always getting angry at him, but recently it had become hard to stay that way whenever she actually talked to him.  
  
Jaheira tried with mixed success to muster sternness. "Just be careful, okay? I guess I still feel a little overprotective of my old charge."  
  
Onyx gave a humored smile.  
  
"I know, I know, it seems weird, what with you having changed since we met from a wandering squire in splint mail to a powerful warrior blazing a trail of destruction through the heart of evil."  
  
"No, it makes sense," Onyx smiled at the flattery, "Everyone needs companions. I can't imagine going solo. Though I certainly admire the few and the proud adventures who do."  
  
"Like Jarek?" Jaheira furrowed her brow. "Onyx, you...one of the few things that has been eating at me that I HAVEN'T complained about much is your cavalier attitude toward all this."  
  
"They don't call us cavaliers for nothing."  
  
"That's not funny, Onyx. I'm serious. Fearlessness is not always an advantage, you know. You don't ever act like we might all be killed the next day, even though we probably should have been a hundred times by now. You're acting like this is all some sort of big game. Some big game where you never lose, or you can go back and try again every time you make a mistake."  
  
"You know, what if we are just characters in a world like that? Funny thing is, if that were the case, we wouldn't ever know it. Some power might, but we'd never get to see what might have been." They suddenly got strange looks and looked around, as if distrusting everything they saw as an illusion that wasn't real..  
  
"What might have been....actually, Onyx, it can be tapped into. I believe it can be seen."  
  
Onyx furrowed his brow. She wasn't joking, was she? "How do you mean, Jaheira?"  
  
"It's not confirmed, but there was a druid once, Arundel of Kuldahar, who thought he'd found out how to do such a thing."  
  
"Wasn't he killed almost a century ago by the demon Belhefit?"  
  
"The same. Before he died, he tapped into something, and he passed the knowledge to another, the druid Glaedra."  
  
"One of the Heroes of Icewind Dale? The warrior who became a druid under Arundel's wing, only to have to avenge him soon after?"  
  
"Yes. I learned this secret from her before you were even born, but didn't have the power to use it."  
  
"And you suspect you do now?"  
  
"I don't know, Onyx."  
  
"There's only one way to find out, Jaheira."  
  
She sighed and smiled. "You always were curious, even for a human. Very well. Close your eyes and try to clear your mind of recent memories, put yourself in the past. Choose a decision in the past. Go back to it. Fill your senses with your surroundings at that moment. Let my voice slip into the back of your mind."  
  
Onyx closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Jaheira's words were soothing, and he could feel her casting some enchanting magic over him, and he let himself be consumed. His mind went back to some of his earliest memories, and he didn't even notice Jaheira's fingers splay across his cheek.  
  
**********  
  
"Wake up, sleepyhead!"  
  
"Immy? Is that you?"  
  
"You betcha On! Wake up! It's time for recess."  
  
Onyx lifted his head off his desk. The last few students were pouring out of the classroom in the library, headed downstairs to one of the courtyards for recess.  
  
"I can't believe ya slept through the entire class!" Imoen giggled. "Yer lucky you were sitting behind Grom! Ol' Tutor Tethtoril couldn't see that ya had your head down!" Grom, a half-orc kid, was one of their new classmates, and the only one taller than Onyx.  
  
"It wasn't luck, sis," Onyx smiled sleepily, "I convinced him to sit in front of me when he first moved here last month, so that I could sleep in class like this!"  
  
"And they call me a troublemaker!" Imoen laughed. "Well, when they catch me that is, heh heh. C'mon, let's get out to recess."  
  
Onyx stood up and began to walk out of the room, holding hands with Imoen who was skipping alongside him and singing.  
  
The two walked out of the front doors of the library. The students were playing or just resting about in the field beside the library and inside the inner wall. They both walked over to where Grom and some of the others were starting to pick teams for football. The corridor of grass between one side of the library and the inner wall was perfect for the game, if a little narrow and producing the tendency for players to get tackled into the brick walls.  
  
"There you are heh heh!" Grom laughed. "Your team's gonna lose anyway!"  
  
"Maybe, if your game is getting as good as your common," Onyx smiled at his new friend's grammar. Only a few weeks ago it would have been 'there you be, your team lose anyway!'  
  
"Then it must stink!" laughed another kid, Xzar. "'gonna' isn't a word, you stupid barbarian! You are both imbeciles!"  
  
Grom clenched his fists and bared his tusks, but didn't pounce on Xzar. That too, Onyx noticed, he probably would have done a few weeks ago. Instead, Grom merely shouted, "Go away Xzar! You are always picked last anyway! No one actually wants you on their team!"  
  
"Now," Onyx sighed, "There's still room. I'll pick ya, X. You're actually pretty darn agile. Just try to actually pass to your teammates instead of trying to run the ball the whole way yourself."  
  
"Bah," Xzar sighed. "A fool's game! Shove your pigskin!" he walked away, fuming.  
  
"C'mon, let's play already!" Imoen groaned. Grom and Onyx began selecting teammates, and soon the game was in full swing.  
  
Imoen was a receiver on Onyx's team, and made half their touchdowns with her knack for catching the ball every time and feigning out of the way of charging would-be tacklers. "Missed me, missed me, nya nya nya nya!" she stuck out her tongue as Grom lunged to tackle her and she leapt over his arms and kept running. She made it to the end of the library, spiked the ball in the flowers, and did a crazy little victory dance.  
  
"Rocks!" Grom cursed as Tethtoril blew the end-of-recess whistle, for his team was now behind and had thus lost. He trudged reluctantly back toward the doors of the library while Imoen bounded ahead, still dancing, and inside.  
  
"Hey, what was that?" Onyx's ear perked up. "It was like a shout or scream or something."  
  
He disappeared around the side of the library, and Grom moved to follow, but just then Tethtoril looked in his direction and the half-orc boy fumed and turned back toward the door again, acting like he was the only one. Tethtoril closed the doors behind them. His classroom would prove a total of three students short though.  
  
Onyx ran out the gate of the inner walls and toward a pen with a few cows and some haystacks; he thought the scream had come from about there.  
  
Onyx picked up a book lying in the grass. The History of Halruaa. Phlydia's book. Did she lose it again? Strange place to drop it though...  
  
Suddenly another scream was heard. Behind the haystacks! Onyx ran around the side of the pen. There, on a lower mound of haystacks hidden between the keep walls and the taller stacks, was a truly bizarre sight. Phyldia was crying. Near her, Xzar was holding her cat Nisbit in one hand while clutching a dagger in the other.  
  
"No, that's your only choice, pretty Phyldia," Xzar grinned before he noticed the newcomer, "You can play doctor with me, or I can play surgeon with your cat.....What? What are you doing here?"  
  
"I demand to know what's going on!" Onyx shouted.  
  
"It's terrible!" Phyldia cried. "He says if I don't take off my dress, he's going to kill Nisbit!"  
  
"Xzar, you will desist this instant!" Onyx demanded and took a step forward, but stopped when Xzar moved the dagger closer to the cat.  
  
"No, football-head, YOU will desist," Xzar sneered and held the dagger even closer.  
  
"Yeah okay," Onyx bluffed, but while acting like he was turning around, actually wound up and tossed the book at Xzar and beaned him across the forehead.  
  
"Yeoch!" Xzar screamed. Onyx used the distraction to lunge. He grabbed Xzar's dagger-arm wrist with one arm and punched him in the face with the other. Xzar dropped Nisbit, who of course landed on his feet and scurried behind Phyldia. Onyx tightened his grip and the dagger fell from Xzar's grasp, then spun Xzar around and chickenwinged him, twisting his arm around against his back and holding him helpless.  
  
"Nisbit! Nisbit! You're okay!" Phyldia scooped up her cat. "Oh, thank you, Onyx!" she bounded over and pecked him on the cheek.  
  
"Here's your book, too," Onyx picked it up with his free hand and shook off the bits of dirt. "Sorry I wasn't here sooner."  
  
"I'm okay," Phyldia sighed with great relief and brushed back her hair, "I hope Xzar's learned his lesson."  
  
"Yes," Xzar cried, "I'm so sorry! Ow, my arm!"  
  
"I think you're just saying that," Onyx sneered. "I already tried to be nice to you, Xzar, and look what you did!"  
  
"We can tell the monks and they'll punish him," Phyldia said. "We should just go there."  
  
"They're soft," Onyx scowled.  
  
Xzar began sobbing hysterically.  
  
"Onyx...should we..." Phyldia looked compassionately at Xzar. "They'll put him alone with his thoughts for awhile and I'm sure he'll realize what he did was wrong."  
  
"No, Phyldia, solitary's not much of a punishment for this bookworm. He'll do this again, that's unacceptable. I can't put you at that risk."  
  
Phlydia's eyes moistened. "For me? Oh...oh, I just don't know! Maybe you're right. Just don't hurt him too much."  
  
"Okay," Onyx smirked. He let go of Xzar and spun him around. While Xzar spun to face him again, Onyx pulled back and smashed his fist into Xzar's temple. Xzar went reeling back and the back of his head cracked against the stone wall of the keep. He fell to the ground and hit his forehead on a rock, then lay there unconscious but breathing.  
  
Phyldia looked pale and clutched Onyx's arm. "I hope we did the right thing...let's just go." They walked back to the library.  
  
After a few minutes, Xzar's eyes popped open. Sparks and colors floated across his eyes and through his mind. His temple, forehead, and the back of his skull were all throbbing and it felt like his mind was going to explode. He looked around but everything seemed different, twisted. He could hear voices laughing and wailing even though no one was there. Then he could see things there. He saw images of demons and pink elephants dancing on the haystacks and flying through the air. Menacing faces appeared in the clouds and laughed down at him. It seemed like every insect in the grass was snickering. Even the cows on the other side of the haystacks seemed to be talking.  
  
"All the voices!" he clutched the sides of his heads. "All the shapes and colors!'  
  
Xzar watched an ant crawl by on the grass. "Kill me kill me!" Xzar heard it sing. He looked up at the sky. "Kill it kill it!" the faces laughed. Xzar squashed the bug with his finger.  
  
A chicken went by, pecking for worms. "Dissect me!" it clucked. "Yes, open it up!" other voices in his head called. Xzar picked up his dagger. He stabbed the chicken repeatedly. He kept on stabbing and then opened it up and began cutting out organs and rearranging them.  
  
"I am become death!" the future necromancer laughed, "Destroyer of worlds! Hee hee hee hee hee!"  
  
*******  
  
"Okay," Onyx smirked. He let go of Xzar and spun him around. Before Xzar could scamper away, Onyx gripped him firmly by both shoulders. "Look, X," he sighed, "You can't do things like this. Look at how scared you made Phyldia. Look, she's crying."  
  
"It's not fair!" Xzar sobbed. "No one likes me! I never liked football, I just want to read books, but then no one will like me and that's not fair!"  
  
"That's not true, Xzar," Onyx replied calmly. "You just have to be nice to people. Look at Grom - no one liked him at first. Why? Because he was mean. But now most people like him, right?"  
  
"Yeah...well he's still mean to me. And some people still don't like him cuz he's a half-orc."  
  
"Yes, but if you start being nice to him I guarantee he'll be nice back. And yeah, some people are just going to be mean for stupid reasons, be because he's a half-orc or you're a bookworm. You just have to ignore them like he does now."  
  
"Fine, I'll try."  
  
"And you can NEVER do anything like what you did here again, okay? This is NOT the way to get girls to like you and it's very, very mean."  
  
"But they don't like me anyway."  
  
"But that wouldn't justify this. Nothing does. And if you're nice instead of mean, some will. You'll see."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Apologize to Phyldia. Promise you'll never do anything like this again - because it's wrong - and also because you'll answer to me if you do."  
  
"I'm sorry Phyldia," sighed the future healer. "It was wrong. I won't do it again, even if Onyx wouldn't kick my ass."  
  
Phyldia smiled. "I believe you, X. Let's get back to class."  
  
**********  
  
"I'm glad you don't think guard shift in pairs is paranoid like the others," Jaheira smiled, sitting on a log.  
  
"Well," Onyx furled his lips, "Now that the Shade Lord is gone, these hills should be plenty safe; but four hours is plenty to memorize my spells."  
  
"You barely wanted to camp at all. It seems like you never get tired."  
  
"I know I've been driving us pretty hard, but everyone's handling it pretty well; we're a pretty hardy party."  
  
"...except for weak little Aerie," Jaheira frowned. "She really just can't keep up with the rest of us. You have noticed, haven't you?"  
  
"Well, yeah...if it weren't for her I probably would have just pressed on through the night to Athkatla. But I've been running us several days between rests for awhile now."  
  
"As you should. I want Imoen back as much as you do. Aerie's slowing us down, Onyx."  
  
"A little. But her spellcasting is amazing, and it's growing."  
  
"It's decent, yes, but Nalia's is better."  
  
"We need a cleric. I'm not slighting your healing abilities at all, Jaheira, but we do."  
  
"I was sufficient for you in our Sword Coast travels. Why not now? What exactly are your reasons?"  
  
"Well, the Sword Coast wasn't teeming with vampires, liches, and demons."  
  
"What about that Helmite fellow we met at the Coronet?"  
  
"What was his name? Annoyman or something? Frankly, he struck me as a buffoon. And you can't say we didn't give him a chance. But even against those bumbling slavers, both his reflexes and his wit left something to be desired."  
  
"And you wouldn't be saying that for personal reasons?"  
  
"If you mean his ridiculously puritanical attitude, that was an annoying but ancillary concern. I freely admit I've never liked much the dogma of Helm, but he was trustworthy and so it didn't make or break him."  
  
"That's not what I meant by personal reasons," Jaheira shot a suggestive glance at the tent Aerie and Nalia shared. Further away in the next tent, the loud snores of a Kara-Turan and a Rashemanian pierced the otherwise-serene night.  
  
"As I already said, we need her spellcasting power. I know she seems like a drag now, but she's growing stronger - both in abilities in character - and I believe will prove a great asset. The kinds of foes we're going to be facing will take much more than just our sword arms. But that's what I admire about you, Jaheira - your command of both."  
  
Jaheira smiled smugly. "Is that it?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"Then that wouldn't be the only reason you nearly got yourself killed the last time we camped."  
  
"I had too, Jaheira. They had a knife at your throat. I knew I'd be taking an arrow through the chest but I couldn't let them harm you."  
  
Jaheira's eyes began to moisten but she tried to maintain a stern countenance. "Even though I could probably have been raised, but you surely couldn't?"  
  
Onyx looked down as if with embarrassment. "Yes...it was irrational, I suppose, but...I just felt I had to."  
  
"Paladinic altruism?" Jaheira suggested, knowing otherwise.  
  
"That wasn't what I was thinking...I wish I could say it was just a calculated risk. Gambling on my own toughness is what I have to do in this kind of life. But this was just an impulse."  
  
Jaheira began to let her face soften. "Onyx, do you know how rare the protective fierceness you displayed was?"  
  
"Sadly, yes."  
  
"And it's not just the bandits. It's whenever we fight Onyx, whether I'm at the front line with you or not. It's strange, I used to abhor the idea of wanting or needing - or giving - any sort of help or defending or anything. Well, mostly I still do. But...with you, I've started to like it. And I love getting your back too," she grinned openly.  
  
Onyx smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's almost...fun." Jaheira's face lit up for an instant but then fell slightly. She hung her head to the side, looking away but leaning slightly closer. "I mean," Onyx continued, "It's more than just fun...it's..." he shook his head slightly side to side, as if either fishing for the right word or knowing but deciding whether to say it.  
  
"It's..?" Jaheira whispered as Onyx finished shaking his head and left it cocked to the other side as Jaheira's was. A gust of wind picked up a loose strand of Jaheira's hair and it caught around Onyx's ear.  
  
"It's..." Onyx whispered. Their faces were inches apart, but they hung their lids low and looked past each other at the ground.  
  
Finally, each knowing what they wanted to say, they met each other's gaze. "Romantic." they whispered in unison. As they sounded the final consonant, they left their lips pursed and began to move the last inch toward each other.  
  
"Ahhhhh!" came a shrill scream from the tent. "No, please, not my wings, they'll heal, please no, no!" The voice melted into anguished sobbing. Onyx and Jaheira snapped apart, fuming and chagrined. Onyx's expression melted to worry and he glanced at the tent, but Jaheira gnashed her teeth and wrung her hands with furious, frustrated anger, her face reddening and her scowl demonic.  
  
"You're dreaming again," came Nalia's exasperated sigh from within their tent. "Go back to sleep."  
  
"I c-cant," Aerie sobbed softly, "I'll just have the same nightmare again."  
  
She rustled around for a minute and then popped out of the tent in a hastily thrown on robe.  
  
"Oh," she smiled innocently at the two guards as she walked over the log at sat down next to Onyx. "I just had the most terrible nightmare!"  
  
You knew we could hear you, Jaheira thought. And wasn't your timing ever so convenient.  
  
"Yes, we heard," Onyx told her softly with compassion but a hind of exasperation, "Sounded awful."  
  
"It was! It was the same nightmare, the night when they cut off my wings! They strapped me down and I was crying, there were the men with rusty saws, and pacing around them - I only saw him for an instant - the blue-haired elf in the mask. 'Careful now, my good fellows. We musn't damage this lovely creature...well, any more than is rendered necessary by the task at hand. Truly a pity, yes, it encumbers my heart like so many suits of crude, heavy chainmail. Pity she's not just a few years older. Patience, patience.' "  
  
"Just try to go back to sleep, child," Jaheira fumed.  
  
"I can't, I'll have the nightmare again," Aerie whined.  
  
"Think of something else; something happier," Onyx suggested. "You need your rest. You need to get all your spells memorized."  
  
"I already did," Aerie smiled.  
  
"Wow, all of them?" Onyx asked. "Because you sure know a lot these days." Jaheira rolled her eyes.  
  
"Yep!" Aerie grinned proudly. "I feel pretty rested, actually." She looked up at the night sky. "Oh look at the positions of the stars," she said before she had hardly actually looked at them, "Your guard is beyond up, Jaheira. Gotta memorize your spells too, ya know."  
  
"I'm fine, child," Jaheira glared.  
  
"Well, she has a point," Onyx opined, earning a glare from Jaheira and a smile from Aerie, "Who knows what will meet us on the road tomorrow."  
  
"I suppose," Jaheira sighed. "Well, I believe Minsc is up for the next shift," she said pointedly. Without waiting for a response, she walked over to the far tent and kicked the side. "Get up, lughead," she barked at Minsc.  
  
"Where are we, Boo? Last Minsc remembers, we were walking through candy cane forests and lollipop groves and...ah, it was just a dream! And Jaheira so kindly woke us up! Now we must stand guard against evil things which go bump in the night!" A shuffling sound was heard and Minsc popped out of the tent.  
  
"Alright!" Lilacor cheered from his back. "Time for some action!!....What, gnolls aren't attacking the camp, it's just guard duty? Boooooooring!!!!!!"  
  
"Well, now that two thirds of the party is awake," Onyx chuckled, "Perhaps you two should be catching some rest."  
  
Jaheira opened her mouth to object but a yawn escaped. She scolded herself, now knowing she was defeated. "Very well," she sighed, "You should return to sleep and thing happy things, Aerie, like Onyx says. You're always the first one to get fatigued on our travels and so you should definitely be getting the most sleep."  
  
"It does not matter!" Minsc proclaimed. "Minsc can carry his witch tomorrow!"  
  
Jaheira 'accidentally' stepped on his foot while Aerie giggled, "Thanks! Or Onyx could."  
  
"Well, yes," Onyx began, "But you need your mind focused too."  
  
"Exactly," Jaheira smiled. "Come on, child."  
  
"Aw, okay," Aerie sighed. She and Jaheira trudged back to their respective tents, leaving Onyx and Minsc armwrestling on the log.  
  
*********  
  
"Just try to go back to sleep, child," Jaheira fumed.  
  
"I can't, I'll have the nightmare again," Aerie whined.  
  
"Think of something else; something happier," Onyx demanded. "You need your rest. You need to get all your spells memorized."  
  
"I already did," Aerie smiled.  
  
"Yes, but you need your rest. Back to sleep with you, now!"  
  
"But..." Aerie whimpered. She looked up at the night sky. "Oh look at the positions of the stars," she said urgently before she had hardly actually looked at them, "Your guard is beyond up, Jaheira. Gotta memorize your spells too, ya know."  
  
"It'll be up soon," Onyx stated, "You need your rest, Aerie. I don't want you slowing us up again. To bed. Now!"  
  
"Oh, alright, Onyx," Aerie sighed. She turned around, biting her lip, and trudged back into her tent.  
  
"Wow," Jaheira smiled, "You're usually so soft with her."  
  
"Enough about her," Onyx dismissed and slid closer to Jaheira gain and turned toward her again. "Now, where were we..."  
  
**********  
  
Onyx stumbled back, pulling his cheek away from Jaheira's hand. "What the..." he clasped the sides of his head. "By the tenders of Tyr!" He nearly tripped over himself and clutched a nearby table. "Why did you show me that?"  
  
"You showed yourself that," Jaheira insisted. "How could I have showed you your own childhood?"  
  
"For the first one, sure," Onyx breathed heavily, "Only I could choose a different path. But the second one, I felt you there, too, I could see through your eyes and mine."  
  
"It was you who chose the different path."  
  
"You led me back to the juncture!"  
  
"My own thoughts might have influenced the memories you gravitated to," Jaheira admitted. "But you made the decision at the fork. You and you alone. I had a destiny. As I told you once before, not all our coins land on their edges."  
  
"There is no fate!" Onyx screamed and pounded the table. "Every mortal can turn over their own coin! It is only believing in inevitability that makes it seem so!" He slumped down in a chair. So did Jaheira, angry at herself for letting another of their long-running arguments resurface.  
  
Onyx slumped forward on the table and put his head in his arms, fuming. He pulled Aerie's handkerchief out of his sleeve and gripped it, his knuckles whitening.  
  
"It's okay, Onyx," Jaheira whispered soothingly and walked over to him. "You have done no wrong. It was only a memory. You have done nothing wrong."  
  
"I have had wrong thoughts," he sighed angrily.  
  
"No, you merely remembered thoughts you had or might have had long ago. It is different. You have been true."  
  
"Ah, you're right. Still, it is too sharp an edge for my liking."  
  
"But you have said yourself you believed there could be no evil in knowledge."  
  
"Yes, you're right. It is a great gift that you have and I'm sure it shall have good uses."  
  
"You know, Onyx, my power will only grow. The power to see further down the roads not taken."  
  
"Again, I admire your powers, Jaheira. But for now, let us rest. We shall have a long day and likely a fierce fight tomorrow."  
  
Jaheira glanced at the door to the back room she and Arra were theoretically sharing. "Yes, we should. But...ah...might I stay out here with you? I'd rather not...disturb Arra."  
  
Onyx glanced around. They'd come back up from the armwrestling, and then Minsc and Valygar had gone back downstairs. Hadn't Anomen been downstairs the whole time? Onyx tried to remember the crowd. No, he hadn't been, had he...  
  
**********  
  
"So there I was, finally being admitted to the Order - as a squire, but it was the proudest day of my life nonetheless - well, until I became a full knight just a few weeks ago I suppose - and of course my father didn't show up. I felt crushed and disappointed, but truly, I knew by then not to expect anything from him?"  
  
"Aww. Yeah, after everything else, that's about the best you could hope for. I'm glad he didn't show up raving drunk or something."  
  
"Heh, actually, then halfway through the ceremony that's just what he did."  
  
"By Mystra! Unbelievable! That must have been so embarrassing, Ano."  
  
"Oh, it was, my lady, it was. There we were, up at the altar, and he barges in through the front doors and begins screaming at what a failure I am, how if I couldn't hack at as a businessman I'll never hack it in the Order, etc. He was slobbering drunk and knocked over several candles on his way up the pews, nearly started a fire."  
  
"Oh, that's terrible! Didn't they do something?"  
  
"Yeah, two paladins grabbed him pretty quickly. And Father Optus was there that day, actually, he came to my defense. 'Actually, he has already proven himself more than worthy of the Order,' he yelled calmly but firmly at my father. 'And furthermore, we have the fact that he doesn't take after you to thank for it. Sirs Erdrick and Wallace, escort Mr. Delryn out, please.' So the two paladins did."  
  
"Wow. I'm really sorry...but at least it must have been nice to have the Order stick up for you."  
  
"Yeah, I was mortified at the time, but later I took some comfort in that fact."  
  
"Well you seem to have turned out fine all the same," Arra grinned and tousled his curly hair.  
  
"Thank you, kind lady," Anomen smiled.  
  
"Aw, just Arra, please."  
  
"As you wish, Arra. So, enough about me. If it's not classified or some such, what about you? We've been on the quest for days now and I've learned almost nothing."  
  
"Well, I usually play it close to the chest, but I'll let you peek, so to speak." She muffled a giggle as Anomen blushed. "I was born to elves - well, heh heh, obviously - in the High Forest, along the Unicorn Run, just north of Secomber actually."  
  
"Near the foot of the Star Mounts, then?"  
  
Arra smiled. "You know your northern geography well. Yes, in fact a little too close for the liking of some. Had raiding griffins swooping down every now and then. That's how I started my warrior training, actually. Defending the village from divebombing griffins with a polearm. When I was...a little older...I moved to Secomber to become the apprentice of the wizard Amanitas."  
  
"The same one who aided the Heroes of the Savage Frontier?" Anomen's eyebrows arched. Amanitas was a human. He realized that he now knew Arra's age to within a generation or two - then he almost-sheepishly realized that Arra had deliberately thrown this out to give him a hint. He held his tongue, though fiercely curious. Not that it truly mattered, but still he was curious.  
  
"Yes," Arra suppressed a grin as she saw upon Anomen's face everything that was going through his mind.  
  
"And your thieving skills?" Anomen's voice had no hint of the disdain that he usually glazed that term with.  
  
"Those were just borne of my various childhood mischiefs among the elves. Hide-n-go-seek, breaking into the schoolhouse for some lighthearted vandal pranks, that sort of thing." Anomen's jaw dropped but he didn't scold. "Hey, it was just kid-fun. Not unlike the beginnings of your pal Imoen, judging from the stories Onyx tells."  
  
"Hmm, actually your sprightly demeanor did remind me of her a bit."  
  
"Oh?" Arra pestered him with faux-indignation. "So I just make you think of another girl, then?"  
  
Anomen, needless to say, fell for this and got extremely flustered. "No no! Um, actually it was more the other way around; when I would happen to think of Imoen it would remind me of you?"  
  
"Ah, so you've been daydreaming of Imoen then, have you?" Arra was wearing a mask of jealously which Anomen thoroughly fell for.  
  
"No, not at all, I just mean when Onyx mentions her, I'll think of her momentarily, and that reminds me of you."  
  
"Ah," Arra looked satisfied and her mind was spinning trying to twist that into an opportunity to act offended. Not coming up with one, she decided to try a different route. "He does talk about his sister and fiancé quite a lot, actually."  
  
Anomen nodded, "I can't get him to shut up. Even talking about flails and swords and axes - which normally he can't shut up about - doesn't work anymore."  
  
"So...you mentioned your sister a few times, but otherwise I haven't noticed you talking about anyone in particular." Arra, of course, knew the answer well enough.  
  
"Well, that's because there IS no one in particular."  
  
"I find that surprising," Arra said, truly enough. Well, other than the fact that she had guessed it already.  
  
"Thank you, my lady."  
  
"Arra," she said gently.  
  
"Ah, sorry."  
  
"It's fine...actually, I kinda like that better now that I think about it. My lady it is."  
  
"As you wish, A- my lady."  
  
"Aw," Arra smiled happily, leaned in slightly, and closer her eyes. Okay you dolt, she thought, now you have to make a frikkin move for once. These knights-in-shining-armor types are supposed to be so manly, why do they act so repressed? It's ludicrous. Truly ludicrous.  
  
About damn time! she thought when she could sense Anomen's face just in front of hers. Well? You're gonna have to initiate this one. I'm not doing everything for you, Sir Pristine. I mean really, quit griping about your friend Onyx once in a while and take a hint from him. Judging from the type Aerie is, it's *obvious* he made the moves there, why can't you here? I think I'm being obvious enough, even for a handsome fighter of modest intellect like yourself. Why...  
  
Arra's inner monologue was halted when she felt, in one instant, Anomen's hand cup the back of her head and his lips press over hers. Finally! Oh my god, he's actually a decent kisser. Who'd have known, I was beginning to think squire-boy here didn't even know about the birds and the bees. I'd have hardly guessed he'd hit puberty if it hadn't been for that cute goatee and - ah, there we go, about time you did something with that other hand...  
  
Meanwhile, sticking out of Jaheira's pack on the floor, Belm was in its sheath. "Wow," the scimitar thought, "What are they...what the? How come my blacksmith never told me about these things? I'm not some little butter knife anymore, you know!..Ooh, that looks nice!.Hey, maybe I shoulda taken Lile up on his offer...darn it, Jaheira, if you're gonna stay in the outer room with Minsc's stuff, come get your pack!" 


	7. Big Top Battle

7. Big Top Battle  
  
10 FLAMERULE 0600 NASKEL - THE NASHKEL INN  
  
Onyx was first up that morning; just in time to see dawn. He hunched over the window of their room and looked east out over the farmlands of Nashkel, watching the sunrise. While it wasn't necessarily rare that he saw them - the around-the-clock style of adventuring party he led meant that they were as likely to be up at dawn as any other hour - it had been quite some time since he'd just stopped to enjoy one.  
  
Jaheira was next to wake from a light sleep. As other powerful druids, she had learned the art of the timeless body and fatigue no longer plagued her, sleep no longer called her. It was only to memorize spells, heal, and keep sync with her companions that she slept. As such, she easily awoke as soon as she heard stirrings, which were those of Onyx. She joined him by the window, but in awkward silence. The druid was gradually gaining the ability to sense the thoughts of others, more easily those that were close to her and those that felt open with her, and that was Onyx. She sensed his feelings of confusion and shame give way to a better understanding of what they had seen and he came to accept it, but still his mind would continue to wonder about what might have been, as would hers.  
  
Valygar was next up. With a whispered word to the other two he went downstairs to order a breakfast to be cooked for them. At last Minsc rose, awakened by the yawn-squeaks in his pocket. Jaheira's ear perked up as she heard stirrings from the inner room. She led Onyx and Minsc downstairs, tactfully giving Anomen and Arra the chance to emerge from their room unseen. It was all irrational of course, it was not as if anyone else - even Minsc - had not noticed, nor was it as if anyone would have been other than happy for them, but still, it has always been the case that new lovers well emerge the next morning somewhat sheepishly, even when surrounded by happy but tactful friends. The pair did join the other four downstairs in good time, and the six ate a hearty farmers' breakfast while going over in hushed voices the agreed plan for confronting the circus that night.  
  
And then at last, repacked and rejuvenated, the party mounted their horses again and rode north to Beregost.  
  
**********  
  
10 FLAMERULE 1200 BEREGOST  
  
The circus caravan had stopped just west of Beregost. It had not curled into a ring as caravans often will, both for defense and convenience, when they stop, but rather was jumbled up in a chaotic temporary trailer park. The crew ran about setting up the circus. The tent had just been pitched over the rings and the bleachers, and now the cages and other equipment were being moved in. The acrobatics ropes were being strung, cannons and trampolines were being placed about, and various cages and other equipment were set just outside, to make their entrances during the appropriate moments of the show.  
  
As the party rode into Beregost, they could see the circus tent off looming to the side of the town. They checked their horses into a stable and set across town on foot. The circus was set up in a large field next to town, surrounded by scatterings of trees and the cars of the caravan.  
  
As per their arranged plan, Onyx ordered, "Valygar, Arra, you infiltrate the caravan itself, see if you can find any papers or overhear useful intelligence. Only kidnap if you're sure you can get all three of the ringleaders themselves; otherwise it's not worth losing the element of surprise. Minsc and Anomen, you comb the taverns and inns in the northern half of town; Jaheira and I will comb the southern half. Hopefully we can find some crew members of even the ringleaders off guard. But be careful, they may be onto us."  
  
The party split up.  
  
Donning cloaks of non-detection and swigging potions of invisibility, Valygar and Arra crept up to the edge of the circus camp. It had the look of a gypsy settlement, with caravans and small tents erected haphazardly around the large tent. Crew members were attending to equipment and caged demihumans and animals while others loudly advertised the night's show and tried to hawk trinkets to passersby. The two slipped in and out of wagons, rifling through desks and papers, but finding nothing important. Meanwhile, the others went from tavern to tavern in the town, finding and talking to various off-duty or AWOL crew members, but not seeing anyone matching the description of the ringleaders, or talking to anyone who seemed to know anything special.  
  
Hours later, the six reconvened and ate before returning to the big top. It was almost time for the show.  
  
**********  
  
10 FLAMERULE 1900 WEST OF BEREGOST - THE CHAOS CIRCUS  
  
The three rings were totally empty. Bards were strolling through the audience, hawking refreshments and trinkets - and picking a pocket or two - but a few townspeople were beginning to catcall for the show to start.  
  
Then, in an instant, the audience gasped and fell silent as a puff of smoke appeared in the center ring. As it dissipated, from out of nowhere stood a lone figure. He was a smallish quasi-elven man with a mask and blue hair. He stood grinning at the silent audience for a moment. Without clearing his throat or giving a warning of any sort, he began to speak.  
  
"Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages! Elves, dwarves, gnomes, and demihumans of all races! You are about to experience sights not seen anywhere else in Faerun or throughout the multiverse. Welcome to the one, the only, the two incomparable Chaaaaaaaaaaos Cirrrrrrrrrrcus!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
He laughed and bowed theatrically as the audience snapped out of their shock and burst into applause.  
  
"Please welcome your masters of ceremonies. Myself, in the center ring, a master slasher, a deadly dancing dervish, a blade for any maid, a blade swinger and bladeslinger, the one, the only, the Blaaaaaaaade!!!!!!!!"  
  
He indulged himself in another bow as the audience clapped before continuing. As he spoke again, a puff of smoke appeared in the right to his right.  
  
"And in the ring to my right, the definition of epic rendition, a brave chanter of grave banter, a bard of the north who brings history forth, the one, the only, the Skaaaaaaaaaaald!!!!!!!!"  
  
The smoke cleared and the Skald could be seen within, engaged in a slow, battle-like dance with his halberd. The Blade continued as a puff of smoke appeared in the remaining ring.  
  
"And in the ring to my left, a laugh-invoker of a joker, there's no insaner gamester, there's no slicker trickster, you'll howl at his scowl and ache in his wake, you'll drown in your laughs should this clown cross your path, the only, the only, the Jeeeeessssster!!!!"  
  
The smoke cleared and the Jester could be seen within, juggling skulls and laughing hysterically. One by one he tossed them at the audience and they floated overhead. Arra gasped at the apparent skull traps, but they soon exploded in showers of confetti and candy.  
  
"And now," proclaimed the three ringleaders in unison, "Let's start this party with a bang!" They flung their arms wide and explosions of smoke went off across the floor. Animals and clowns were now everywhere in the rings. Bears, griffins, horses, displacer beasts, and otyughs paced about the rings with painted fur and various frills and hats strapped on. Most of the clowns were demihumans, but some were also trolls and orcs in clown suits. Some of them led the animals to and fro while others juggled, cartwheeled, flipped on trampolines, tossed things to one another, breathed fire, swallowed swords, or engaged in other unlikely feats.  
  
Puffs of spoke appeared high in the tent, on the acrobatics platforms, and performers appeared and waved down to the audience. They began walking or riding unicycles across tightropes, swinging from platform to platform with trapezes, sometimes letting go in midair and catching each other. Swashbucklers engaged in mock duels atop the tightropes, with the 'losers' plunging to their 'deaths,' only to happen to hit one of the scattered trampolines and go vaulting elsewhere in the circus to begin another routine.  
  
Other rogues came in from outside the tent wheeling pieces of equipment. Some of these were wooden boxes which they wound cranks on the sides of, causing them to play music for a moment before exploding in human jack-in-the-boxes which sent rogues flying into the air, caught by the acrobats and tossed elsewhere. Others resembled cannons, into which bards cast fireballs, causing them to go off with a bang a moment later and send some other helmet-wearing fool flying to the other end of the circus.  
  
While the antics on the ground continued, the acrobats begin tossing ropes around, carrying with them when they swung, or hauling them up and down, and soon a web of ropes was strung from pole to pole across the circus. Some stretched across horizontally, some at angles, some went nearly vertical and had been made into rope ladders.  
  
The three ringleaders disappeared in puffs of smoke and reappeared on the large crows-nest-like platform high up on the center pole.  
  
"Any now, for your interactive entertainment," the Blade laughed maniacally, "Could we have a few volunteers? Ah, nothing will be required of you, in fact, you'll merely be taken captive by our daring and charming band of swashbucklers!" at his words, trapezing swashbucklers flew off their ropes and landed in rolls and cartwheels amidst the audience. They quickly dashed through the audience and grabbed 'volunteers,' mostly young, slight maidens, hoisted them over their shoulders and then dashed back to the rings. They tossed the maidens up to swinging acrobats, who caught them out of the air and then completed their trapeze swings, landing on the top center platform.  
  
"Thank you, thank you," the Blade laughed as he and his brothers tied the half-dozen maidens around the center post on the platform. "And now, I have a very, very special announcement. I'm going to need a few more volunteers. Your task, I fear, will be of a different nature. You won't have the luxury of being tossed and carried up here, you're going to have to run the gauntlet, for the entertainment of the house, and make your way here."  
  
"A call! A call!" the Skald chanted. "A call has gone out to any courageous enough to venture into our rings of monsters and rogues, make their way up the web of tightropes and troupe of acrobats, and rescue these damsels in distress! Only the nimblest and bravest need dare!"  
  
"And what is your prize for completing this little quest?" the Jester laughed. "Oh, what indeed? Oh, the question boondoggles us! Come and claim it, or drive yourself insane wondering what it might have been! Hah hah hah hah hah hah hah hah!!" the Jester nearly fell off the edge of the platform with laughter, but teetered on the edge for a bit and then finally fell back on.  
  
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Anomen asked as a number of ambitious youths in the audience made their way toward the edge of the ring.  
  
"That this is a trap just for us?" Onyx inquired.  
  
"Exactly," Anomen furrowed his brow.  
  
Valygar nodded. "They didn't do anything like this in Trademeet."  
  
"Jarek could have given us away," Onyx bit his lip. "As far as we can tell, he was taken by the slavers after they parted company with the circus. But who can guess the extent of their communication or cooperation."  
  
"I just don't think Jarek would have given them a shred of information, no matter what they did to him," Arra shook her head.  
  
"Well they already knew enough to capture him," Onyx said. "I have to wonder about that, actually. Did his...new slaver friend...just decide to make another random kidnapping, or is Bond a familiar face to them? I get the feeling he's more involved in this than we know," he looked pointedly at Arra.  
  
"Fine," Arra sighed, "You were on a need-to-know-basis, but I guess you need to know. 007 has had a run-in with the growing Cyricist cult in the past. These slaving Purple Sun Assassins, whoever they work for, are probably part of the same cult, and his captor must have recognized him. 007 is almost too good an agent - he's sorta made a name for himself with our enemies, and he's a bit showy and never been the best about keeping as low a profile as he could or should."  
  
"Arra! Why didn't you tell us earlier." Onyx sighed, "Now we almost surely know who the slavers are; whoever runs this cult!" Anomen shot him a scowl for his scolding tone with Arra.  
  
"Well," Arra began nonchalantly, "Not really, Cyric has a pretty widespread and it was pretty disorganized until recently. The sect Jarek infiltrated his since scattered to the wind; I can only assume that the assassin that got him is either one of the ones he crossed paths with earlier, or heard enough about him from others who figure out who the swashbuckler she met in Nashkel was."  
  
"Wait," Onyx furrowed his brow, "You said disorganized until recently. What did you mean?"  
  
"A man seems to have gotten many of them under his control, and has recently led an aggressive recruiting and indoctrination campaign. I guess you were only back in Athkatla a few hours, but if you hadn't been gone for a month before fighting the Bhaalspawn War down in Tethyr, you've have seen the rise of Cyricist propaganda in Amn. They're converting - some people say kidnapping - people everywhere, streets, especially the slums, taverns, brothels, thieves' guilds, mercenary companies. Some say the Shadow Thieves have even come under his influence, supposedly symbolizing the alliance of Cyric and Mask."  
  
"And who is this man?"  
  
"No one knows anything about him except the name he goes by. Cyran. Or Saint Cyran."  
  
"The Saint."  
  
"Quite likely. But even so, it wouldn't help us find him. They've been looking for him, believe me, but all anyone ever finds is the few lowly clerics converting in the taverns. It's weird - these Cyricists, they all seem to know him, have heard him speak, but we can never find him."  
  
Onyx looked back up at the ringleaders on their platform. "I really hope these guys know something about their supplier." The youths who had dared the challenge were trying to make their way into the three rings, to get to the poles or trampolines so that they could climb or bounce up to the ropes.  
  
Audience members gasped in terror as the volunteers were quickly torn to pieces by the monsters and rogues. "Don't worry, good people, don't worry, it's all part of the show, trust nothing that you see, illusions are about in this circus of chaos!" the Blade proclaimed and reassured them. The audience winced at the sights of spurting blood and the sounds of cracking bones, but bards strolled through the audience strumming mesmerizing tunes on their harps and the audience seemed pacified and reassured and did not protest.  
  
Anomen muttered a true sight spell. "No, this is definitely real. We can't let these fools rush to their own deaths!"  
  
Onyx looked up. The Jester was now holding a scimitar to the necks of one of the maidens. He ever-so-slightly pressed in and blood trickled down the girl's neck from where the curved blade touched it. "Ooh hoo hoo hoo," the Jester laughed, "We are not impressed by the mere whelps we see below. Nimble and brave we said, not clumsy and foolish. Oh, we knows who is out there..." Onyx could swear the maniacally babbling Jester was staring straight at him, "Yes, we knows, now accept our challenge or your door prize will be these girlses heads laid at your feet...so to speak...no, literally! Ha ha ha!!"  
  
Onyx began to rise. "You're right, Anomen. Trap or no, the show must NOT go on."  
  
The Jester seemed to notice Onyx rise and drew his scimitar away, laughing triumphantly. Anomen, Arra, Minsc, Valygar, and Jaheira rose and the Jester rubbed his hands together and bellowed to the audience, "And now, ladies and gentlemen, the real games begins!!"  
  
The six fanned out as they reached the front of the aisle and approached one of the side rings. A phalanx of monsters and rogues stood before them.  
  
"We can't just cut our way through this," Jaheira looked around, "We have to be smarter."  
  
Arra thought quickly. "The grappling crossbows!" The men and monsters started advancing. "But we'd better at least neutralize them fast!"  
  
Before she's even finished her sentence, Jaheira, Minsc, and Valygar had all cast entangle spells. Vines burst up out of the very ground and snaked around the limbs of most of the assailants, causing them to stop in their tracks and struggle in the grasp of the foliage. Onyx and Anomen each cast hold spells and many of the rogues froze dead in their tracks. Arra cast another hold spell and stopped some of the oncoming monsters. She then cast a horrid wilting spell around them while her companions engaged the few free foes in melee combat, causing whirling sand to appear and swirl at the attackers. They screamed in agony as swords and maces smashed into them and moisture was sucked from their bodies. As they fell, the six drew out their crossbows and fired up at the nearest pole, just above the level of a platform on it. The grappling hooks twirled around the pole and caught their ropes. The adventured pulled their triggers again, and were pulled up into the air as the crossbows winded their ropes back in.  
  
Just as they landed on the platform over the side ring, swashbucklers came gallivanting down the tightropes at them, swinging scimitars or drawing short bows, some from atop unicycles. On the platform over the center ring, the ringleaders were each preparing spells.  
  
Onyx reached over his own shoulder and pulled an orange throwing axe from his ammo strap. He flung it at an incoming rogue's unicycle, and the explosion from Q's axe caused the rope to snap and send all the rogues on it plunging to their deaths. Minsc swung his huge sword Gram through the next rope and all upon it went falling as they rope cave way, but one swashbuckler managed to leap off and land amongst them, while still others swung in from trapezes and flew onto the platform with blades already drawn, and several bards on the ground below dimension doored themselves to the platform.  
  
Minsc lifted his sword again and impaled the incoming swashbuckler before he could even stop the momentum from his leap. Onyx managed to knock one acrobat out of the air with another exploding throwing axe, and Valygar destroyed a few more with exploding arrows. Anomen cast a ring-shaped storm of vengeance at the center platform and electricity, fire, and acid rained upon the ringleaders and their cohorts, injuring and disrupting them, while conspicuously avoiding the captives in the center of the platform. Arra cast a lightning bolt in the direction of a third tightrope, and the nicely lined-up swashbucklers on it screamed as the bolt blitzed through them all and many lost their balance.  
  
The bards on the center platform tried to resume casting but Jaheira had just summoned a cloud of insects upon them. They cursed and screamed, which only invited the flying pests to zoom into their mouths, causing them to spit and scream more terribly still.  
  
Valygar was firing arrows along a fourth tightrope, picking off the advancing swashbucklers on it by shooting through their legs and causing them to lose their balance. One danced along it, managing to avoid each arrow, and finally came leaping off the rope onto the platform. Valygar dropped his bow and drew his katanas just in time to meet the swashbuckler's scimitars, and the two swung and parried briefly until Minsc cleaved into the rogue's back, paralyzing him, and then Valygar kicked him in the chest and sent him flying off the platform.  
  
The six looked around. The two tightropes to the central platform had been severed, but the two leading to other platforms remained. Below, the monsters were running amok and devouring other challengers, while the rogues among them tried in vain to keep them from charging into the audience, who were now screaming in terror at the obviously real carnage and fleeing out the doors.  
  
"Oh, curse it, oh, most dreadful day, we're ruined!" the Skald moaned as the audience stampeded out of the tent.  
  
"Hee hee hee look at the peasants runs!" the Jester pointed and laughed. "They trampleses each others in their haste and does the monsters' work for them! Hee hee hee hee hee!!"  
  
"Now, worry not, my good fellows, we shall have this all cleaned up in no time, but for now, the show must go on!!" the Blade orated.  
  
Minsc was advancing down one of the tightropes, Onyx down the other. Valygar and Arra were firing arrows and magic missiles from their platform at the central one, and Anomen and Jaheira were calling carefully aimed columns of fire and lightning down upon it. After Minsc killed the last swashbuckler on his rope, one at the other platform slashed through the end of it.  
  
"Ahhhhhhahahhahahahahahahahhahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!" Minsc yelled as he swung through the air on the rope. His rope swung under and past the platform, then Minsc swung up again on the other side, then came around his circle back over the platform and managed to land on it safely despite his circuitous route. "Me Minsc you Jane!" he roared at the swashbuckling woman who stared startled at the huge berserker's acrobatics. She swung her scimitars at him, but they clattered against his armor and he brought the butt of his sword down upon her head, knocking her instantly unconscious. An assassin dashed up behind him and managed to drive a dagger through his armor into his back. Minsc screamed in rage and, frothing at the mouth, spun around and cleaved him clean in two. He ran around the platform, cleaning the clocks of another quartet of swashbucklers and nearly running off the platform himself in his mindless berserk state. Finally he came to, still looking as healthy as ever, the assassin's poison having already run its course and left him still standing and swinging.  
  
Onyx stepped down the other tightrope, holding his longswords Argurvadal and Blackrazor out for balance, facing off with swashbucklers and engaging in high wire duels. A bard on the platform swung to cut his rope, but he cast a hold spell out and the three rogues on the platform all froze in their tracks. The next swashbuckler came bounding down the rope and engaged Onyx. He managed to strike him several times, not piercing his armor but nearly causing him to lose his balance. Onyx was unable to get through the man's parries, who used skillful feigning and dodging to avoid contacting the most powerful blows of the cavalier, which parried or no would surely have sent him flying off the rope to his death. At last Onyx had a flash of insight and began hopping up and down on the rope. The impact of the armored man's jumps caused the swashbuckler to hop unsteadily himself, and at last he slipped and his legs straddled the rope, causing him to land on it square on his groin. The rogue screamed in newly sterile agony, but his pain was cut short when Blackrazor swung by and lopped off his waist-height head. The body quickly went limp and fell.  
  
"It's all part of the show, ladies and gentlemen," the Blade tried to calm the audience, "It's all part of the AAAH!" he screamed as Valygar's arrow sailed through his chest, its tail quivering as it stopped with the head sticking out his back. "Aah! Is it bad, doc?" he moaned theatrically to the Skald. "So it ain't so! Everything's goin dark! This looks like the end!" He overdramatically clutched the Skald and the Jester, who drug their felled friend around the platform, using the maidens around the pole to put a human shield between themselves and the sniper.  
  
While the Skald fed the Blade a healing potion with overstated tenderness, Valygar continued to take potshots at other rogues on the various tightropes, trapezes, and platforms. Around him, Arra, Anomen, and Jaheira cast evocations and enchantments into the thick of thieves and monsters in the rings below, charring and confusing them by the dozen.  
  
Onyx made the final dash across the rope and leapt onto the platform just as the bard unfroze and slashed the rope. In the same motion as his landing, he slashed Argurvadal through the bard's neck, instantly cauterizing and sending the body and head falling to the ground below. Two other swashbucklers on the side platform charged with shortswords and scimitars. Onyx summoned a deva who engaged the scimitars swashbuckler with her sword of flame while he parried the other's shortswords. Both pairs fought back and forth on the platform. He tried to knock his opponent back with powerful blows, but the clever thief managed to feign about, never quite getting pushed over the edge and managing to nick his opponent several times. In desperation, Onyx drew upon holy might and, with his next single blow, sent the surprised swashbuckler reeling back with the force of a charging elephant. The man screamed as he tripped over his own feet at the impact and went flailing through the air, landing in the maw of a hungry griffin below. The deva was wearing down her opponent, whom Onyx stabbed through the back with Blackrazor, drawing out the rogue's last life energy to heal his own wounds.  
  
After beheading another swashbuckler who'd leapt onto his platform, Minsc turned his attention back to the central platform, which still held the ringleaders. He began a brave dash across the tightrope leading to it. The remaining audience below gasped at the spectacle of the enormous man managing to keep his balance on the tightrope as he engaged one swashbuckler after another, cleaving through them with the edge of his sword or sending them flying off the tightrope with the flat of it. Before reaching the central platform, the Jester, huddled behind the captive maidens, noticed the oncoming Rashemanian and cast a flame arrow at the edge of the tightrope, which began to burn through. Just as Minsc made the final dash to the platform, the Jester ran out from behind his human shield and, holding his hammer Clown Faeyr high, smashed the mighty berserker in the chest and sent him flying back. Minsc fell back with his legs straddling the burning tightrope, most thankful for the codpiece of his platemail. He sheathed Gram and used his hands to get himself into a stand on the rope again, but before he could make another leap to the edge of the platform, the rope burned through.  
  
The Jester laughed hysterically as Minsc fell screaming to the ground below. His fall crushed a griffin beneath him and somewhat broke his own fall. But heavily bruised and with broken bones, before he could get up again, a swarm of assassins was upon him, plunging poisoned daggers deep all over his body. His companions watched in horror and the Jester clutched his sides and continued laughing as Minsc, a score of daggers sticking out of him, heaved and then ceased to struggle.  
  
The Jester's laughing stopped abruptly when Valygar took advantage of his exposed position and shot an arrow through his neck. He grasped his bleeding throat and made a horrible gurgling noise as he fell to the ground. The Skald dashed out and pulled him behind their human shield, then broke the arrow and pulled the halves out of his neck. The Skald poured a healing potion directly into his torn throat, and the Jester resumed laughing as his vocal cords healed.  
  
"We'll see who delivers the punchline!" the Jester laughed and pulled an enormous crossbow from seemingly out of nowhere - in truth, from the bag of holding at his belt. Peeking around the side of the bound maidens, he pointed it back at Valygar and squeezed the trigger. A short pole shot out and unfurled a flag that read "BANG!"  
  
"Wrong toy!" the Jester laughed and tossed the crossbow away. He pulled out another one, which had a giant boxing glove mounted on it. He aimed at the segment of pole just below the platform where Valygar and the three spellcasters were standing. He pulled the trigger and the boxing glove flew through the air, smashing into the pole and splintering it.  
  
"Time for some acrobatics of our own!" Valygar shouted as he and Jaheira dashed for the trapezes that had used earlier by previously dispatched incoming swashbucklers. They grabbed the handles and pushed off, and began swinging through the air toward the central platform. Meanwhile, Arra had cast a dimension door and grabbed Anomen's hand to pull him through. But just as she disappeared and he moved to follow, the Jester fired another boxing glove into his chest. His hand slipped from Arra's and the portal closed. He was nearly thrown off the platform and fell onto his back. The platform broke from the shattered pole and fell, and Anomen's body was jarred painfully as it smashed onto the ground, fracturing into several pieces and crushing another of rogues and beasts beneath it. Bruised, battered, and broken by the fall, Anomen could not make himself move from the pile of debris and struggled to maintain consciousness. As thieves with menacing daggers closed in around him, he had just barely enough time and energy left to mutter a sanctuary spell. He felt his surrounds grow faint as if they were suddenly far away, and the thieves began to thrust but then stopped short, looked around confused, and then just wandered elsewhere in the fray. Anomen breathed a sigh of relief as creatures swarmed around the debris ignoring him, and began to chant a healing spell upon himself.  
  
As Valygar and Jaheira swung through the air toward the central platform, Onyx was flying toward it in the grasp of his deva and Arra's dimension door was opening at the edge of the platform. The Blade, the Skald, and the Jester looked nervously at the incoming heroes, then at each other, and then began chanting the same spell. Dimension doors opened for each of them.  
  
"Face me, cowards!" Onyx screamed as his deva dropped him onto the platform and he ran after them, slashing his longswords through empty air just as they disappeared. Arra stepped through her own dimension door and Valygar and Jaheira let go of their trapezes and the heights of their swings and landed on the platform. Jaheira landed on the very edge and nearly fell backwards into the throng below, but Valygar and Onyx caught her arms and pulled her to safety.  
  
"Oh, thank you!" "Our heroes!" "Please untie us!" the maidens cried in uncanny unison and Onyx and Valygar set about doing just that. On the platform over the other side ring, three dimension doors open and the Blade, Skald, and Jester stepped through. They watched the captives getting untied and began to clasp each others' shoulders and tried to suppress laughter.  
  
"Wait, something's not right," Arra mused and chant a true sight spell, but nothing happened.  
  
As Onyx slashed the ropes from the last maiden, she smiled seductively and walked up to him, beginning to undo her blouse. He arched an eyebrow and took a step back, muttering a detect evil. His eyes opened wide as he completed the spell and the maiden tore off her blouse and skirt. Underneath she wore a clownlike polka-dot catsuit and had two katanas strapped tightly to her back. The other five tore off their dressed to reveal similar garb.  
  
"I see you've met my Krazy Kensai Katana Klowns!" the Jester laughed. "They play a tad rough!"  
  
Onyx was already thrusting toward the first one with the swords he'd used to slash her bonds, but she feigned away and as quickly came forward again with her katanas drawn and slashed into both of his shoulders. He winced and slashed in from both sides, but she leapt off the ground, tucking her knees in and clearing both his blades, then kicked him in the chest with both legs. He stumbled back at her surprising strength and nearly fell off the platform. As the kensai charged, the deva swooped down and swung her ethereal sword through the warrior's head, cleaving it in two. Onyx sidestepped the still-charging body and it flew off the platform.  
  
Another kensai klown was charging Arra but she yelled a dire charm just in time and just before crossing staff spear and katana, the kensai turned to parry another who was bearing down. A third charged past her at Arra, and the elven woman spun her staff spear around and knocked both katanas aside, then thrust forward a hand, from which went flying a swarm of magic missiles that smashed into the kensai's face. They burned black polka dots into the kensai's catsuit, but she growled and kept charging. Arra thrust her staff spear forward, but the kensai twisted her thin midsection around it and slid along the shaft, swiping at Arra's neck from both sides. Arra ducked back and narrowly avoided the blades while chanting. She completed a vampire touch spell and promptly lifted one hand from the staff spear. While the kensai drew her katanas back for another pair of swings, Arra grasped her neck with freakishly clawlike fingernails and hissed, showing fangs. She nearly broke the kensai's neck as she squeezed it and leaned in, then sunk her fangs and began to suck her blood. The kensai moaned, weakened, and dropped her katanas. She pulled daggers from her catsuit and lifted them high to plunge them around into her foe's back. But as her blades came down, Arra bit hard and then jerked her head sideways, breaking her opponent's neck with the tremendous strength of own neck and jaw. She turned her staff spear sideways and pushed the instantly- dead clown woman away from her with the shaft.  
  
As her vanquished foe fell to the floor, Arra watched her charmed kensai dance in her fierce duel with the other. She saw one artfully twist around her opponent's katanas and then behead her. The victor turned to face Arra, who wasn't taking any chances and was already waving her hands and chanting a terrible-sounding spell. An invisible but disturbing and nearly tangible ripple of energy sailed through the air at the kensai and disintegrated her on the spot.  
  
Just as Valygar had begun receiving similar treatment as Onyx from he last 'maiden' he freed and had seen the catsuit under the blouse, he had drawn his own katanas as quickly as his opponent and the two had begun an intricate ballet of swordplay. For several minutes on end, Valygar failed to even graze his opponent, who glanced his armor several times and managed to whack off most of his dreadlocks as they flew through the air around his head. The newly close-cut Valygar growled and cast haste upon himself. At blinding speed, he slashed and stabbed at his opponent but still could not find her flesh. As he feigned back from her slashes, he pointed Celestial Fury straight at the kensai and stared down the blade at her. He squeezed the handle and called a bolt of lightning into the katana and out the tip. The charging kensai was knocked back by the burst of electricity, and cried as her hair singed and her flesh steamed. Before she could recover, Valygar struck her again with the katana and sent another burst of electricity through her body. She moaned and fell to the floor, but no sooner had she hit it than Valygar drove Hindo's Doom straight through her heart.  
  
Scimitars and katanas crossed over the heads of Jaheira and the sixth kensai klown. The kensai quickly kicked Jaheira square in the stomach of her armor and sent her reeling, almost over the edge again. The kensai charged, but Jaheira cast a druid spell and a small, glowing gem appeared in her hand. It began to burn with bright light and Jaheira tossed the searing orb just as the kensai came upon her, and the woman screamed as the burning stone struck her chest and exploded in a cloud of fire that consumed her. She continued charging blindly, missing Jaheira with her katanas but running herself through on the outthrust scimitars.  
  
Jaheira tried to thrust forward, but the force of the impact sent them both hurtling over the edge of the platform. Jaheira gasp in frozen terror as she felt nothing beneath her feet. The impact and sent Jaheira falling back, and she was beneath her dead opponent as she fell. She landed on a running thief, somewhat breaking her fall, but then the kensai's body smashed on her as well. She screamed as she skull of the thief being crushed beneath her jammed against her armor, leaving a large bruise on her back. Then the weight of her former foe, light though she was, crashed onto her and knocked out her wind, and she thought she could feel and hear some of her ribs breaking. She lay in a daze and could vaguely make out a burly bard standing over her and raising a halberd high to behead her, but had barely the consciousness or the muscular control to move.  
  
From above, Onyx witnessed this spectacle in horror just after he'd watched his own opponent tumble to her death. "Jaheira!" he roared and leapt off the edge of the platform, sheathing his longswords in midair and curling forward in an arms-first dive. He tackled the bard out of the air, sending the halberd flying into a troll across the ring. He slammed the bard into the ground, crushing the hefty man's spine and ribcage instantly with the force of his tackle, and felt his own arms give out several sickening crunches and pops.  
  
The rather angry troll pulled the halberd out of its chest and came running toward him with its claws outstretched. With his broken arms, Onyx struggled to get up. Beside him, from her own crumpled misery, Jaheira watched the oncoming monster and began chanting a spell which summoned a fire elemental to intercept the troll just before it fell upon Onyx.  
  
As the fire elemental flailed on the troll, cauterizing all the wounds it caused, Onyx rolled off the bard's body, and pulled his broken arms together, pressing his hands together and using each's healing powers to heal the other arm.  
  
"Indeed, one hand heals the other," Jaheira smiled and the helped each other to their feet. "You save me, I save you," she glowed while Onyx warmly chanted a healing spell and put his hands over her chest and healed her internal wounds.  
  
"Always, J," Onyx gave her a squeeze on the shoulder. The thud of the charred troll as it fell to the dirt brought their attention back to the fray, and they both spun around with scimitars and longswords drawn. The throng of thieves and monsters had been considerably thinned by the party's earlier evocations, and now many of those who remained were still under the effects of their enchantments and battling one another, growing yet even less in number. In the ring where Anomen had fallen, he had used his sanctuary to heal and then imbue himself with a number of protections and enhancements, and now stood in the center of the ring, a tornado of blades spinning around him and slashing down all who came close while he bellowed divine spells to smite all who stood away. He hadn't been able to get to Minsc, but he'd summoned a deva of his own who stood guard over the body, slashing down all who tried to approach and loot or desecrate it.  
  
The monsters and ruffians were still thicker in the opposite ring. Above them on the pole's platform stood the ringleaders, trading arrows and magic missiles with Arra and Valygar's position on the central platform. The bards tried sending a few fireballs and cold cones their way as well, but Arra had managed to completely adjure herself against them, whereas Valygar was desperately stealing swigs of healing potion in between shots.  
  
"Enough! Let's finish them!" Valygar shouted to Arra and ran toward the edge of the platform. The bards had slashed all the tightropes leading to theirs, but Valygar grabbed a trapeze. "Teleport and meet me there!" he called as he dashed off the end of the platform and sailed through the air.  
  
"It's a trap! A skull trap!" Onyx yelled as the Jester drew two of his juggling skulls and tossed them forward. They froze in midair at the front edge of their platform, and just as Valygar somersaulted onto it, he flew into them and they exploded. The bards were cowering at the back of the platform as bits of skull flew everywhere, a few hitting them but many more raking through Valygar's flesh. The ranger screamed, his hands over bloodied face, and the Skald drew an enormous spear and began charging as Arra teleported to Valygar's side. She moved with her own staff spear to intercept the Skald, but the Jester laughed and tossed a banana peel under her foot and she slipped on it, falling on her back. The Skald completed his charge and just as Valygar took his hands away from his face, the spear- wielding bard ran him straight through. Onyx and Jaheira watched in horrified disbelief from above as the small but apparently strong Skald lifted Valygar off the floor on the spear and held him impaled over the side of the platform. The Skald smiled and began to sing.  
  
"And now we reach the part of the quest, For dramatic tension in the brawl; The noble warrior has done his best, But for the story's sake he must...fall!"  
  
The Jester pointed and laughed hysterically as the Skald let the spear go and Valygar fell, clutching the shaft and landing on the bare ground with a sickening crunch. Arra was beginning to rise to a kneel and chant a spell, but the Jester added a grease spell around his banana peel and she slipped again. As the Skald drew out another spear and raised it to impale Arra, Onyx was already running toward the base of the pole with Carsomyr drawn, hacking down men and beasts on both sides without missing a step. As the reached the base of the pole, he roared and began a single mighty swing which cleaved straight through the pole.  
  
"Heads up, Arra!" he yelled up at her, hoping his gamble that she's survive the fall better than the Skald's spear would pay off. The Blade rushed to the edge of the platform and peered down angrily at him. Onyx gave the severed pole a kick and it began to tilt towards the far ring.  
  
The few surviving rogues and beasts saw the pole about to crash down and followed the remains of the audience in a bolt for the doors of the tent, screaming in terror as the creaks of snapping wood were heard all around them.  
  
The Blade lost his balance and teetered on the edge of the seesawing platform. "Methinks the sanctimonious oaf means to be the one to really bring the house down tonight!" he cried as he lost his balance and fell through the air. He recovered in a somersault and landed on his feet a few paces from Onyx, shortswords already drawn. The cavalier held Carsomyr high and faced him.  
  
The pole tilted and the top pulled free of the roof of the tent, which began to sag. As the platform sloped sideways, the Skald missed with his spear and jammed the point into the floor next to Arra. He stumbled, planting his feet on the grease as well. When the pole had fallen over to the point that the platform hung diagonally over the middle ring, Arra and the Skald slid helplessly along the grease and off the end of the platform. Jaheira ran across the ring to catch Arra, and the Skald craftily aimed for and landed on one of the trampolines. He bounced into the air again and landed near Arra and Jaheira, his ridiculously huge double-ended halberd already drawn.  
  
The Jester was wrapped around the pole for dear life when it smashed into the ground of the far right. Its platform crashed into the pile of debris that remained of the previously felled platform, bringing it to a near halt before the Jester was squished between the pole and the ground. He laughed happily and dropped the last few feet to the ground, then drew Clown Faeyr and his scimitar Sanity's Edge and faced nearby Anomen.  
  
The Helmite called a bolt of glory down upon his foe, who appeared to disappear through a dimension door just in the nick of time and the bolt struck the ground. Anomen looked around for the door his foe would reappear through, and was caught completely off guard when the Jester appeared out of nowhere right in front of him.  
  
"Stop! Hammer time!" the Jester laughed. As he swung Clown Faeyr into his chest and he went flying across the ring, Anomen realized belatedly the Jester must have cast a shadow door. Anomen skidded across the ground to a stop. The few remaining henchmen in the ring came running upon him, but he chanted to Helm and then slammed his fist into the ground, causing an earthquake spell to ripple across the ring and knock them all to their feet, where they were bounced and smashed to pulps by the shaking ground. The Jester too tried to get up over and over only to fall and hurt himself. He sprang up for good as Anomen charged him, and began chanting a spell. It sounded as if he completed it, but nothing appeared to happen except for the priest smashing his mace into his head and sending him to the ground again. Before he rose, Anomen called a column of flame upon him and then beat him to death with his mace. Anomen gasped in shock again as the body merely vanished. A mislead spell!  
  
"Can't touch this!" he heard the Jester laugh. He turned quickly to look for his real foe, and soon saw Clown Faeyr swinging at him again. He blocked it with his shield, but she sheer power sent him stumbling back several feet. He drew upon holy might as the Jester charged, and managed to keep his footing as he blocked the next blow. Anomen swung in with his mace, but the Jester caught it on the inside of his scimitar, then slid the curves sword down the mace's shaft and sliced into Anomen's gauntlet. The knight hopped back with a deep gash wound in his wrist, and quickly healed it as the Jester created a dozen mirror images around himself.  
  
Anomen quickly jogged backwards while strapping his mace to his belt and pulling out his sling. With expert quickness, he fired bullet after bullet at the charging horde of Jesters and watched the phantasms disappear one by one. While he took them out, the Jester fired a lightning bolt straight at him. He cursed and knelt in pain as the electricity coursed around his metallic armor and through his body, and as he tried to stand again, the lightning bolt, having reflected off the pole in the ring, shot into his back and he fell again while the Jester laughed and ran aside of it. Anomen's fall was 'broken' by an upswing of Clown Faeyr into the side of his head, and he went flying into the pole and crumpled at the base of it. The Jester cast a slow spell upon him and a haste upon himself and then charged. Moving like molasses, Anomen tried to lift his shield, but the Jester was upon him too soon. Clown Faeyr knocked his mace to the ground and Sanity's Edge grazed over the top of his slowly rising shield and sailed smoothly through the chainmail between his helmet and body armor, slicing off Anomen's head and finally stopping in the wood of the pole.  
  
In the center ring, the bard had danced and spun his double-ended halberd around and around, parrying the blows of both his opponents. Jaheira tried to back up and cast a druidic spell, but moments after knocking Arra's staff spear aside, the Skald artfully opened his hand next to his head and shot a flurry of magic missiles back over his shoulder into her. While still polearm-fencing Arra, he danced backwards and uppercutted the stunned Jaheira with one end of her halberd. The druid went flying into the air, her jaw smarting painfully but her thoughts thankful for her helmet. Arra backed up to cast a spell of her own, but the Skald's hand shot forward again and sent a power word silence straight at her. Arra stopped midchant, no words coming from her mouth, and angrily charged again. The Skald lodged the back end of his halberd against the ground, caught the underside of Arra's outthrust staff spear with the front end, and used his strength to lever her off the ground and catapult her over his head through the air. He'd aimed perfectly and she crashed into Jaheira just as she was beginning to rise and the both went crashing to the floor again.  
  
The Skald cast a dispel magic at Arra, erasing her protection from energy, then fired a blast of chain lightning which successfully sizzled them both. He fired a lightning bolt into Arra's face just as she got off the ground and off Jaheira and she clutched the sides of her heads in agony, trying to keep her mind from scrambling as electricity coursed through it. The Skald threw down his halberd, cast a power word silence over Jaheira's lips just as she was beginning to mouth a spell from her physically helpless position beneath Arra, and then drew out his two-handed sword Circusomyr, a Holier-Than-Thou Avenger.  
  
Before Arra could recompose herself, the Skald had pulled his sword behind his shoulders, charged up to her, and handily lopped off her head. He lifted the sword high, and Jaheira tried to rise and push Arra's body off her, but Circusomyr plunged through her chest before she could get up, and she was pinned to the ground again and instantly killed as the Skald twisted it in her chest.  
  
As Onyx charged, the Blade cast a half-dozen magic missiles at him, but the cavalier held Carsomyr forward and let them smack the holy avenger and fizzle. Then he was upon the Blade, who planted his foot down and began a spin just in time to avoid being smashed across the ring by the mighty blow. Onyx tried unsuccessfully to hack through the shortsword cyclone, and as he Blade finally slowed down out of his spin, he managed to get a hit across his back, which sent the bard toppling to the ground.  
  
Onyx lifted Carsomyr high for a killing blow, but just then he glanced aside and noticed the Skald and the Jester bearing down on him. He glanced past them and his eyes widened in horror as he caught the bodies of Anomen, Arra, and Jaheira strewn about with the rest. The Blade rolled along the ground away from him and popped up, beginning a spell just as the Skald and the Jester did.  
  
Onyx knew they were too spread out to engage simultaneously, and he wouldn't have time to toss throwing axes at them all before their spells came at him. He calmly chanted an armor of faith spell and smiled as ethereal blue armor and white wings appeared over him. He held Carsomyr high in front of them and smiled. For between his weapon, his spell, and his acquired natural resistance, he could achieve every wizard slayer's dream: immunity to magic.  
  
He laughed and drew upon holy might again as the bards cast protection from magical weapons upon themselves and then proceeded to assault him with harmless fireballs, ice storms, and lightning bolts. He merely pointed Carsomyr at each of them in turn, shooting a dispel magic out the tip of the blade and dispelling their protection. As he charged the Skald in the middle, they cast domination spells upon him, to no effect. The Skald lifted Circusomyr to parry Carsomyr while the Blade and the Jester tried to petrify and disintegrate Onyx, again in futility. Even the strong Skald was smashed to the ground by Onyx's titanic blow, dropping his Holier-Than-Thou Avenger, and as the other two bards cast acid and flame arrows which fizzled against his assailant, Onyx brought Carsomyr down upon his stomach, smashing him into paralysis with a stunning blow, and then knocked him unconscious with a blow of the hilt to his head.  
  
While Onyx turned to face the Jester, the Blade fired a lightning bolt at his back, which passed harmlessly through him and fried the Jester in front of him. Onyx charged while the Jester screamed, but the bard's contingency kicked in and another protection from magical weapons shield formed around him just as Onyx swung in. It was to little avail, as Carsomyr's first hit dispelled it, and then Onyx brought the flat of his blade upon the Jester's forehead with another stunning blow, sending his second opponent to the ground frozen and out cold.  
  
As Onyx turned, the Blade had finally given up on magic and was now hurling darts at a frantic pace. They bounced harmlessly off his armor as he charged, and the Blade began altering himself with Tenser's transformation just before his opponent closed in. He crossed his shortswords above his head just in time to block Carsomyr's downward swing, then kicked Onyx in the chest and managed to send him to the ground with his newfound strength. Just as he lunged to drive his swords into Onyx, the cavalier rolled back and hopped to his feet, swinging Carsomyr up and slashing the Blade across the face.  
  
The tip of the sword sliced the Blade's mask in two. Its straps popped and it fell from his face. Onyx's face was one of shock as he saw the face with the numerous tattoos and the devilish grin.  
  
"Haer'Dalis?"  
  
"The same!" Haer'Dalis laughed. "About time you figured it out, tin- can-man, I daresay the audience of our little play has known for several acts now!" He gripped Chaos and Entropy tight, but didn't step forward, and neither did Onyx. "Philanderer of many planes and many lovers, at your service!"  
  
"But we found you a captive of Mekrath? And a member of the troupe before and again? And yet this circus trio has persisted for years."  
  
"As I said, my raven!" Haer'Dalis laughed, plunging with hammish, theatric gluttony into his exposition, "Philanderer of many planes. I was the Blade before the troupe, and now I am again."  
  
"We saved your life! How could you?"  
  
"Ooh," Haer'Dalis mocked, "How could I? How could I? Because I CAN, you idiot-paladin! I can do anything I want!"  
  
"If I'd known you were responsible for this...I can't believe I almost let you join us!"  
  
"Ah, yes, but you didn't, did you? And we both know why. Don't tell me how you've no use for a showman in your Pious Paladin Party, I know the truth! Yes, I saw the way you looked at her, and at me when I looked at her! Why, I just wanted to console the poor dove, ah, losing her wings, such a tragic tale..."  
  
"Stow it, ringleader. I always wondered how you instantly knew she was a wingless avariel. Now I do. You're the very reason she's wingless at all."  
  
"About time you figured it out, pala-dolt."  
  
"And I suppose our meeting wasn't just a coincidence then? Likely you more Mekrath's guest than captive."  
  
"Ah, there your heroic inferences lead you astray. You'll find no ever-scheming villain here. You underestimate the power of chaos and sheer chance. It was pure coincidence that I met my little dove again! Imagine my surprise. I never wanted to sell her and the rest to that goofy old gnome, you know, but my brothers had me two to one on it. If only dear Aerie had just been a few years older...ah, it so nearly didn't matter anyway. I left for the troupe in anger and played across the multiverse in their company. Mekrath was merely an old...creditor of mine whom I'd been a bit sluggish in repaying. I suppose the fact that he caught me with his wife was what really broke the camel's back, though. And thanks to you, dear hero, for breaking HIS back and for my valiant rescue! And imagine my delight when who should be among you, but none other than my little dove, now blossomed into womanhood! For a moment I almost believed in fate, order, and meaning!"  
  
"You fool yourself, philanderer. If you'd had your way, she'd soon have been just another conquest and you'd have forgotten all about her by now and gone back to your troupe."  
  
"Ah, perhaps so. You know, I came back to the circus but a few days ago....my troupe had decided to put on a play of your exploits, my raven, and I'd have none of that - they'd have made me play you! Imagine the irony! But that, my raven, is what this is really all about. I can immerse myself in your character; I can see what makes you tick. We're really not so different, you and I. We simply chose slightly different paths."  
  
"You see, my raven, there are three paths for great ones such as ourselves, three paths to wealth, women, and power. There is the path of the hero, perhaps a noble knight, which you have taken, banking on that shiny armor and dashing demeanor to swoon the ladies and the people and keep bureaucratic buffoons heaping gold upon you to kill a few orcs now and then. There is the path of the player, the rogue, which I have taken, using cunning and charm to entertain and enthrall and keep people throwing their coins and their bodies at me - and I'm not above reaching into a pocket or a skirt to take them for myself now and then, so to speak. And then there is the path of the villain, which your brother chose, amassing an army of mercenaries, thieves, or fanatics, and bringing down a gauntlet upon the land in order to take for yourself whatever you please."  
  
"You have done well in this first path, my raven, almost as well as I have in the second, and I have a certain admiration for you, as sickening as is the chivalrous face you must wear to get what you want. And so, while the heroes and villains shake the world in their struggle, the rogues dance about in the middle and take what is shook loose, as I almost did with our dove as you and Irenicus struggled."  
  
"You're wrong. I'm not like you. I'm no soldier of fortune."  
  
"It's in you, my raven, it's there! Don't deny the temptation! Think what we could be together! Every hero needs a minstrel to sing his praise, and every minstrel needs a hero to keep the tales coming! On the one hand, we have you, heroically saving the day from the nefarious masked Blade over and over, the wry Haer'Dalis at your side all the while. It's perfect! There's no real villain, no need to risk your life and limb or suffocate in dank dungeons, and none will no the different, for I shall play the part of the villain behind my mask, and without it too be the spinner of the tales, I'll exaggerate far and wide our staged exploits! We'll have everything we ever wanted, fame, fortune, glory, women, all without so much as a real scratch on our armor. The illusion will be foolproof!"  
  
"You're insane, Haer'Dalis. You know I'd never do that. Even if I wanted the things you claim I do. A heroic deed is its own reward. As for women, I've the one I love, and that's the only one I want."  
  
"Ohh, my raven," Haer'Dalis shook his finger mock-scoldingly, "I know ya better than that! I know how much wealth and treasure you keep, all cleverly hidden in your bags of holding, or in assets being the ridiculous number of priceless 'weapons' you have. The one you love? Aerie - a one- woman man? I think not. I know about that little spoiled de'Arnise girl friend of yours and all the assets you're accruing together in dungeons or in court. And I know about another girl in your party too, that 'sister' you've been oh-so-close to for soooo many years. All those years in a stifling library together, and the long weeks in the Sword Coast wilderness! Don't pretend do you didn't have thoughts! Don't act like a sanctimonious little noble-boy with me, raven! I know the heart of a man, and you are a man among men. And oh, last and best of all, the last woman in your party, I know about her too. That lovely half-elf half-druid, I saw the way you looked at her when first our paths crossed, and I saw the heroic little dive-tackle stunt you pulled for her just now."  
  
"You're a fruitcake. I've always said some bards spun a ballad of lies for every stanza of truth."  
  
"Oh no, I can see what's going on, my raven! Don't worry though, your secrets are safe with me! But best you give me something to sing about instead, just in case! Join me now, and imagine how much we could make out of this night along. Imagine the ballad I could weave about your valiant annihilation of the iniquitous Chaos Circus! With Haer'Dalis fighting by your side all along! But lo, the Blade escaped, and therein lies the ticket to our next fabricated adventure, and further riches and laurels!"  
  
Onyx had been stealing glanced at the unconscious forms of the Skald and the Jester, suspicious that Haer'Dalis was merely trying to give his pals time to recover. "Enough talk, garrulous bard," he dismissed, "We don't want the same things out of life, except for Aerie. I'll never join you."  
  
"Ah, dear raven, there's room for negotiation! Aerie's not so important, have her by all means, I've a score of avariel to keep me company now, and there's this hot little number from the Elemental Plane of Fire I've had my eyes on lately! And don't worry, I don't carry a grudge, you know I live for the moment, not in the past. Come see my new playmates! Elf maids of all kinds! You'll love them! Aerie and your friends never have to know. Our little deal can be a secret, but they can tag along, and we'll all get rich and famous!"  
  
"You just don't get it, fiendling. I believe in justice and love. And you? You don't believe in anything. You're a nihilist."  
  
"No, you just don't get it, knighty! All your precious concepts of love and faithfulness and valor and good and evil, are all nothing! Look around you, look at the destruction you've wrought tonight. You, the tireless slayer and smiter, the very prince of murder, a destroyer like no one's ever seen, of all people should understand what I do, that nothing is permanent, everything dies, decays, or disappears. Ergo, all your absolutist concepts of morality are void! How can there be any eternal values when nothing is eternal? Any absolute truths when nothing is absolute? Ask yourself this, and you will arrive at the only possible conclusion - nothing really matters, and thus, all that's left is having fun! Gold and glory, wine and women! We each have accrued much, we deserve it, we're the exceptional few in this grand play we call reality, but together we could be so much greater! We could have so much more FUN!"  
  
"Enough!" Onyx roared and began an underhand swing at Haer'Dalis. The blade crossed his swords to parry it, but the force of the blow sent him back. As if anticipating this, Haer'Dalis used the momentum of the upward swing and pushed off with his own feet, leaping high into the air in a flashy backwards somersault. He landed on a trampoline and bounced off it, sailing even higher and grabbing a tightrope. He leapt onto it and began to cast. While Onyx hurled Hangard's Axe through the air to cut the rope, Haer'Dalis opened a dimension door and disappeared through it just in the nick of time. Onyx cursed as his prey escaped and the axe reappeared in his hand. 


	8. Emancipation Facilitation Operation and ...

8. Emancipation Facilitation Operation and Information Negotiation Justification  
  
10 FLAMERULE 2100 WEST OF BEREGOST - THE CHAOS CIRCUS  
  
Onyx sheathed his axe and looked around the circus. The Skald and the Jester were still out cold, there were bodies everywhere - including those of his five companions - and the remainder of the audience and crew had fled. Far away outside the tent, he could hear the familiar "Ah am tha Flaming Fist!" call of the town guards as they chased down the scattering thieves and monsters.  
  
Withdrawing a coil of rope from his bag of holding, Onyx bound and gagged the Skald and the Jester together and cast a silence spell over them for good measure. He lifted them up in one arm and walked over to the far pole, against which the body of Anomen rested. Setting down the bards, he laid the body out on its back, placed the priest's nearby head where it belonged, and then pointed both fists at the body. His blessed bracers glowed and blue light poured out of them, resealing the neck and the body's other wounds.  
  
"Die, foul clown of darkness!" Anomen screamed as his eyes popped open and sat up, nearly trying to strangle Onyx. "Oh, it's you...by Helm, my neck aches!"  
  
"It should, you were beheaded. Don't worry, another cure light wounds and you'll be good as new. I got the Skald and the Jester as you can see, but the Blade got away. C'mon, I need you to resurrect everyone else."  
  
"Ah," Anomen nodded, "Then my charming personality wouldn't be why you raised me first? Pity."  
  
Onyx's jaw hung open. Anomen Delryn actually made a joke!  
  
Anomen was rather distressed to find Arra's head also separated, and panicked for a moment before they found where it had rolled it, but soon he had resurrected her and Jaheira and then set about tending to the two rangers.  
  
"Sorry, J," Onyx smiled sheepishly as Jaheira's eyes opened and looked up at him. He continued looking over her and healing her remaining scrapes.  
  
"Think nothing of it," Jaheira smiled, "This is hardly the first time. As long as we're in one piece in the end." As Onyx helped her up, she saw the Valygar being helped to his feet by the other three. "Wow...were you the only one left?"  
  
"Yeah. Close one, huh?"  
  
Jaheira's look became one of shock and contentment. "Nice to hear you finally admitting something like that." She looked around. "We wiped out the entire circus!?"  
  
"Pretty much. Some of them fled, and I'm sure your beau - uh, fine ears can hear the Flaming Fist chasing them around outside."  
  
She smiled at but then looked around again and smiled. "Oh, Onyx, I should have known this would turn into another bloodbath! Look at this! You can hardly see the floor for all the bodies! This was supposed to be a covert intelligence-gathering mention! And you just annihilated an entire circus! In front of the entire town!"  
  
Onyx winced. "At least we permanent reduced the demand for the slavers. Well, if we're trying to bring them down, we might as well start by freeing their last shipments. Let's check out the wagons outside the tent."  
  
"We should, Onyx," Valygar began, "But perhaps we should take care of our new...captives first? They'll wake up soon and we need to get to interrogating them - the mission's success hinges upon it."  
  
"I've got just the ticket for putting them in cold storage," Arra smiled. She cast an Otiluke's Resilient Sphere over both of them, and then began to stretch her bag of holding about it. "Presto!" she handed it to Onyx, who pulled an amulet out from under his armor, tied the bag to it, and then tucked it back in.  
  
The party ran out one of the tent flaps just as a squad of Flaming Fist soldiers ran in. "What happened here, citizens?" a Flaming Fist captain demanded.  
  
Onyx thought quickly. He didn't want to be recognized, but he didn't like to lie to the law when he could help it. "This was one of their acts," he began truthfully. "They invited challengers from the audience to fight them, and fight them they did." Jaheira was holding her hand over Minsc's loud mouth, disguising it as a hug and subtlety keeping him from blurting out.  
  
The Flaming Fist captain frowned. "What I heard outside corroborates that, but..." he peered at Onyx, who had pulled the visor down on his helmet, "Looks like you're the ones who finished the fight," he looked around the mass grave that the circus rings had become. "Well," the soldier seemed to take the hint that Onyx wished to remain anonymous, "I'm going to report that an adventuring-type party led by a paladin survived the brawl; that should suffice."  
  
Onyx nodded politely. "Be advised. Slavery is illegal in these parts, and these circus wagons and filled with the enslaved. Now that the Flaming Fist has been made aware of this situation," he said with an edge of sarcasm, for of course everyone already knew this, but now they would have to deal with it, "They are required to emancipate them immediately," he finished, and the party began to walk out of the tent.  
  
Wary of thieves in the caravan, they stayed together as they went from wagon to wagon, and found them deserted. They went about freeing cages of virtually every demihuman race of slaves: humans, dwarves, halflings, gnomes, and elves of the woodland, drow, sea, avariel, and tiefling varieties.  
  
While his companions were opening cages throughout a wagon, Onyx bashed the lock off a cage of avariel and while helping the cramped elves out, his heart wrenched as he saw one more, a young girl, huddled in the back corner. She had curled into a ball, her face in her knees and her arms around her shins, making clearly visible her back, upon which were no wings, but only fresh scars from where they had recently been.  
  
"Come, miss," he smiled and kneeled down, offering his hand.  
  
She merely looked up at him suspiciously and stayed in her tight ball, shivering.  
  
"You're free to leave this cage now," he tried again.  
  
She looked up again and smiled before her face fell again. "Are you my new master?" she whimpered.  
  
"No, miss," he smiled and took her hand, trying to convince her to stand, "You're free. I have slain your captors for what they've done to you. You are not a slave anymore. You are free. You may go anywhere and do whatever you want."  
  
"Except fly," she began to cry, "They took my wings! They kept me in this cage and they atrophied and then they sawed them off! I'm not free! I can't fly anymore! That's not freedom!"  
  
"What's your name?" Onyx asked.  
  
"C-Cresa," she sobbed.  
  
"You know Cresa, I know someone else like you. A young avariel girl, who was a slave like you and lost her wings...."  
  
"That's horrible!" she wailed. "Why does this k-keep happening to us?"  
  
"Because there are evil men in the world. And that's what I'm here for. To stop them. As I have today."  
  
"In this cage, my mind used to wander and I used to think about all the things I would do when I got out. I always had a dream that a knight would come and rescue me, and I had dreams about all the far-off places I would go once I was free. But now, it doesn't seem like any of it can come true; I'll never get my wings back!"  
  
"No you won't, and neither did this other. Aerie is her name. After I took her from the circus, she traveled with me, and like you, didn't want to live without her wings. But I showed her the world on the ground, and now she's seen many things she never would have otherwise. And now she and I are in love."  
  
"R-really?" Cresa looked up at him.  
  
"Yes. Don't act like this is the end of your life, and don't pine for what is gone. This is your new life. You have been born again, Cresa, and a new world awaits you. Who knows what or who is in your future. Your dreams may or may not come to pass, but you will also come to know things you didn't even dream of. Now, let me take you out of here, and let us see what dreams may come." He gently picked her up in his arms and strode out of the cage and the caravan.  
  
The other adventurers and now some of the Flaming Fist guards were gathering groups of huddled and shivering slavers, many scarcely clothed, in an open space next to some of the wagons.  
  
"What are we going to do with them?" Onyx bit his lip, "We can't very well just leave them to starve."  
  
Anomen scowled, "Now that they're free, they classify as beggars, and I suggest we leave them be."  
  
Onyx looked at the other knight. "I've two minds about this sort of thing - somewhere between you and Miss Nalia de'Arnise, if you will."  
  
Anomen rolled his eyes. He had gotten to know Nalia during their long hours hanging around the Copper Coronet, and during his adventures while in Onyx's party, and had a number of squabbles on this subject with her.  
  
Onyx continued, "For an ordinary grown beggar, who has had ample opportunity to get a job, I've no sympathy, not do the faiths of Torm, Lathander - or Helm or Tyr for that matter - unlike that of Ilmater - which I freely admit to the heavens that I've issues with - require me to. Now, with a child who has barely had a chance, I am less solidified in my thinking; and the same goes for refugees like these, at least until they can get on their feet again - being mostly elves of various stripes, it would be desirable that they could be helped to return to their various homelands - the Cloudpeaks, the Sea of Swords, the Sigil, etc."  
  
"Ho there!" he called to the same Flaming Fist captain, who came into the clearing and began looking over some of the slaves, and trying to figure out what to do with the slaves and the trashed circus they now had on their hands.  
  
"Ah, the paladin. Yes?" the captain asked.  
  
"If my knowledge is correct," Onyx began, "It is the policy of the law of Baldur's Gate and other Sword Coast townships that, in the event of a confiscation of property of a villain or criminal - I think you will find the extensive slave-holding and recent audience-murdering more than merit such status applied to this circus, now 'liquidated' anyway, you will find its ringleaders gone - the government generally will auction or sell off said property?"  
  
"That is correct," the captain nodded, and noticing Onyx's slightly disapproving gaze, added, "It offsets the taxes levied upon those who earn by honest means."  
  
"And so it should," Onyx continued. "Given the plight of the former slaves we see here - who are mostly indigenous to other places, far from their homelands, having no family, friends, or jobs in this fair city," he nodded pointedly at the avariel and sea elves, "Might I suggest that the extensive food stores within these wagons first and foremost be used in the immediate feeding of these refugees, the cash money holdings be divided equally among them, and the proceeds from the sale of the rest be done as such, or used by the government of Beregost to arrange transportation for them to the places where their peoples and families live, or they were captured - such as the Cloudpeaks, or the Sea of Swords, or whatever they may say."  
  
"I'll...do my best," the captain nodded.  
  
"Not good enough," Onyx shook his head. "Either declare that you've the authority to do this and will, or fetch me the mayor of Beregost, be he at sleep or feasting or..."  
  
"Look no further!" a fattish, richly robed man stepped into the circle. "Keldath Ormlyr at your service! I've heard what you said just now, and I think it's a capital idea, really, you needn't worry about a thing, until we can arrange transportation for them we should be able to house them quite comfortably - if not privately - at the Temple of Lathander here, where I am actually a regular - say, wait a minute, I know you sir! Weren't you the one who brought in those wyvern heads for the bounty last year?"  
  
Onyx sighed. No use now; and besides, if it helped get the right thing for these refugees, it was worth it. He took off his helmet. "Yes, I am Onyx; and this is more or less the same party of which you are thinking." That, while true, actually served to help keep the mission clandestine, as it made it look more like Onyx's latest adventure and less like part of a mission arranged by the Harpers or the Order.  
  
"Ah! The Heroes of Nashkel - or Baldur's Gate, between them here, we hear of you as both you know, heh heh - say, there is actually a priestess of Lathander coming to the temple here just now who spoke quite highly of you, sounded as if she'd met you recently, I suggest you go see her - ah, but for now, these slaves, er, ex-slave refugees. Captain! Order your men into these wagons immediately, find the food stores, and arrange them upon tables or barrel-tops or whatever you might find in a convenient manner for consumption by our guests here; have them too bring out any monies - you there! go fetch an accountant! - which we'll need to divide in due time, and as for the appraisal and auction of the other goods, I suppose that best wait til morning. Now, captain, once all have had a good meal here, I want you to transport them - yes, in the wagons, hitch them back up or what have you - around to the east side city to the Temple of Lathander. Now, go to!" the mayor chuckled.  
  
Satisfied that all was well, Onyx thanked him profusely and the party began to walk east to the Temple of Lathander.  
  
"Well, so much for covertness," Arra sighed, "News of a dissolved circus will spread fast, and now your name is attached to it."  
  
"I tried," Onyx shrugged, "But it matters not. It is still unknown for whom I'm working, only that our party - I suspect the mayor'll have recognized you, Minsc and Jaheira - was once again..."  
  
"Responsible for a mass butt-kicking of evil!" Minsc cried. "Word shall spread of our righteous exploits and strike fear into the hearts of bad men everywhere! And the stories shall grow as our adventures continued, and grow and grow as we continue to send our boots into the backsides of evil over and over around Faerun, and still they will grow, and we stories will have to loosen their belts and wear suspenders because they are getting so big and fat, and still they will grow, and the stories will no longer be able to fit through a doorway, and...."  
  
The party listened to Minsc's babbling with varying mixtures of amusement and annoyance, and Arra cut in, "So, any useful information or equipment in the wagons? I found some enchanted arrows to restock my quiver and a few wands and scrolls, but that was about it."  
  
"Same here," Valygar nodded. He dug some priestly and arcane wands and scrolls out of his pack and handed them to those who could use them as they walked along. The others largely concurred, no one had found any weapons or armor better than what they had, and more importantly, no one had found any information on the slavers. That, apparently, was done off the books.  
  
"Um, Onyx?" Anomen piped up a while later, "Isn't the Temple of Lathander to the north now? I think we're passing it."  
  
"That's correct," Onyx nodded, "But we have other business first..."  
  
"...interrogation," Valygar finished with them.  
  
Anomen and Jaheira exchanged uneasy glances. The party continued walking across the dry plains, desert land almost, east of Beregost, and Onyx led them round the far side of an outcropping of rock.  
  
Valygar pointed to two flat places on the stone, each of which had a higher jut of rock behind it, making crude high-backed chairs.  
  
Onyx nodded. "Those will do." He and Valygar began taking out special coils of strong platinum cable, and Onyx unhitched his special bag of holding. "Ready your stunning missiles or spells," he cautioned, and opened the bag upside down.  
  
The Otiluke's sphere, much larger than the bag, squeezed its way out and plopped to the ground, inside of which could now be seen the Skald and the Jester, who were luckily still unconscious. Onyx took out Carsomyr, whacked the sphere once to dispel it, and resheathed the sword while Arra and Valygar tied the ringleaders to the rocks. Arra pulled a small vial out smelling salts out of a pocket and waved it under the nose of each bard.  
  
"Who the what the where the how the why the when the????!!?!?!?!" the Jester babbled, trying unsuccessfully to move his head side to side and have a look around.  
  
The Skald immediately appraised his situation.  
  
"Ah, so the tables have turned, I see, We're now mouse and you're now cat; But your efforts are in futility, We'll not by charmed, and we'll not rat!"  
  
"We'll see about that," Onyx rhymed. The Jester began chanting a spell, but Valygar pointed a drawn arrow right in his face, overemphasizing the strain of keeping his longbow taught, and the Jester shut up immediately. Onyx nodded and Valygar and Minsc began trying to charm the two bards. They tried time after time, to no avail. Arra tried casting dire charm upon them several times, also to no avail, and then pulled out a wand of charming, while Anomen and Jaheira tried casting domination spells on them, but nothing seemed to work. The Jester was laughing at them the entire time, and the Skald merely sat quiet.  
  
"Your enchantments will not work we are insane!! Yes insane!!!" the Jester laughed.  
  
"Silence, fool!" the Skald hissed.  
  
"I was beginning to fear as much," Arra nodded. "It is true that a mind can be so warped these magics will not work. It seems it is thus with them."  
  
"Then I guess we've got just one option left," Valygar said grimly, drawing daggers from his hip-sheaths and twirling them expertly. "You bards will just have to voluntarily tell what we want to know."  
  
"And what is that?" the Skald smiled faux-innocently.  
  
"Your supplier. We want names, locations, forces," Valygar stated.  
  
"Ah, I'm so sorry," the Skald sighed, "But we just don't know."  
  
Onyx felt his ring of the Aster begin to tingle. "You're lying," Valygar stated flatly.  
  
"Oh no, not at all, we don't even know his name, he just, ah, shows up from time to time with our stock." Onyx's ring tingled again.  
  
"You are lying," Onyx said this time. "You had best tell us."  
  
"Ah, very well," the Skald sighed, "Our supplier is Lord Manshoon III of the Zhentarim. The only bases we know are the ones everyone does, like Llorkh and Zhentil Keep or so forth."  
  
Onyx felt his ring tingle yet again and he sighed. "Don't bother lying," he sighed. "First, I'm going to be able to divine when you do through means of my own. Second, I've seen enough of the slaving lackeys to know they're not Zhentarim. Third, you're a very poor actor."  
  
The Skald scowled in indignation at the insult to his bardic abilities. "Very well. We are supplied by Aran Linvail of the Shadow Thieves, located in Athkatla, in the Docks District; but I'm sure you knew that."  
  
"Lying again," Onyx sighed. "The next time I decide you're lying, it's going to hurt." Valygar walked around behind the Skald and pointed the tips of his daggers upon his shoulders.  
  
"Okay, okay," the Skald smiled, "We're supplied by the Fire Knives of Skullport, under Waterdeep."  
  
"Lie," Onyx stated. Valygar plunged the dagger into the Skald's deltoid and began to twist it. The tiefling screamed horribly.  
  
"Desist!!!" Anomen cried. "This must not continue!"  
  
"We...need to talk about this," Jaheira agreed.  
  
Valygar scowled at both of them, Arra remained silent, and Minsc was simply holding his bow drawn at the bards, lest they try to cast something, while talking to and trying to comfort his hamster. "Cover your ears, Boo and Bebe! Sometimes heroes must do grisly things that little hamsters must not watch!"  
  
"Very well," Onyx nodded, "Minsc, keep an eye on those two." The other five walked around the rock outcropping.  
  
"I don't believe you!" Anomen yelled at Valygar and Onyx. "This is NOT behavior becoming ones such as ourselves!"  
  
"Neither is letting their supplier stay in business," Onyx retorted.  
  
"Well, we'll just have to go about finding him or whoever some other way then," Anomen crossed his arms.  
  
"Let's hear your suggestion," Onyx said.  
  
Anomen stammered, "You know what I mean! We'll have to think of something else! We already have several leads!"  
  
"Yes," Onyx nodded, "But they would waste time following, during which time more will continue to be enslaved, and they might in the end prove no easier a solution than we have here."  
  
"Then too bad!" Anomen stomped his foot, "No matter what, we must conduct ourselves according to certain standards! If we stoop to their level, we're no better or more right than them."  
  
"Spare me the platitudes."  
  
"The ends don't justify the means!"  
  
"I said spare me the platitudes. This end happens to justify these means. How can you put the welfare of these two villains above that of those we saw back at the camp, and the hundreds more than will replace them if we don't act fast?"  
  
"You must not try to make judgment calls, which are fallible, but rather act on absolute principles."  
  
"How about we start with 'don't put the interests of an evildoer above those of an innocent' ?"  
  
"You can't just make it up as you go along! There are rules, Onyx; if you won't abide by those set down by Helm, you must at least think of your own status in the Order! You know they'd never approve of this. It is conduct unbecoming of a knight and it reflects badly upon us all!"  
  
"Actually, it doesn't reflect at all, seeing as how no one will ever know about this."  
  
"Oh, our superiors will hear of this, believe you me. Either cease and desist, and pursue other means of getting our intelligence..."  
  
"...which have all already failed...we tried charming them and others, rifling through their stuff - heck, Valygar did all that before this mission even started.we've got the intelligence network of the Harpers behind us and THEY never came up with anything."  
  
".or I am through with this mission, effective immediately, and I shall return to Athkatla and Keldorn shall hear of this outrage!"  
  
Arra had been looking grimly at her new lover during this tirade. "You know, Ano, this is also a Harper mission, and...sometimes things like this are done by us." She exchanged glances with Jaheira, who reluctantly nodded. "You don't have to be involved personally. Onyx, you don't have to either."  
  
"I'm not afraid of a tattletale wannabe-paladin," Onyx scowled at Anomen, who scowled back. His gaze softened as he turned to Jaheira. "What do you think, Jah?"  
  
"I...don't know what to think. Yes, the Harpers do such things - though it's not supposed to be known, and I trust none of you to mention it outside this company - but, I...don't know that I approve. It is not...the druid way. It is unnatural. And moreover, Onyx, Anomen has a point - if good will do the same things evil would do achieve its ends, is there really any difference between them? You see now my struggle with a desire for balance, and for good. To the extent good can show itself better than evil, I tent to good. To the extent that it cannot, how can I take a side?"  
  
"That's ridiculous," Onyx dismissed, "You could make that argument about anything - killing, imprisoning - just because evil does something, doesn't mean that thing is always evil."  
  
"Don't think I don't know that!" Jaheira snapped. Onyx winced; the one thing Jaheira hated most was being talked to as if she didn't know something, and he tried to get around such suggestions, not because he felt she was all-knowing, but because it was, pragmatically, unproductive. "But some things simply ARE evil."  
  
"Even assuming this is," Onyx smiled, "Surely you must *balance* it against the evils that will come to pass should we fail in our mission."  
  
Jaheira hung her head. "Yes...you...are right. We must remember the welfare of those we are trying to protect." She clasped her hands over her face, her mind torn. As it was so often torn these days. Struggling with questions of balance. So much of that struggle was for balance in her own head. Torn between her druidic philosophy, and those of Khalid, Onyx, and her good friends. "I...would rather wait here, but I am still with you in this mission, Onyx." She bit her lip as they looked at each other. "I wish this didn't have to be done, but I do approve of it; it is necessary for the greater...good."  
  
"Why!" Anomen scowled. "The lot of you," she shot an accusing glance at Jaheira, earning glares from her and Onyx, and then another at Arra, earning a hurt look from her. "I am reporting to Keldorn Firecam immediately. I am going to tell him everything, Onyx. How you made a public bloodbath out of an 'information-gathering' mission, and the vile, evil methods you are employing now." He got in Onyx's face as he continued to scream, and spittle began flying, clinging to his goatee and hitting the paladin on his clean-shaven face. "I'll be surprised if they don't expel you from the Order," he sneered, "You bloodthirsty, fanatical, Bhaal- tainted, Blackrazor-wielding, torture-mongering vampire-lover!"  
  
"SHUT UP!!!" Onyx roared and Anomen flinched. He and Jaheira each snarled at the reference to Aerie, albeit for different reasons.  
  
"So I shall," Anomen swept his cape back and put his hands on his hips, "Until I get back to Athkatla and report you to the Order, Onyx, and they shall judge you....as are Helm and Torm right now!" He turned and stormed off toward their horses, roped nearby behind the Temple of Lathander.  
  
"Ano, wait..." Arra ran after him. He didn't meet her gaze and kept walking until he got next to his horse.  
  
"I can't believe you're condoning this!" he shouted at her.  
  
"Think of all those people we rescued today! Do you want more enslaved like that!"  
  
"Of course not!" Anomen barked at her rhetorical question while untying the horse. "But we have to fight according to certain principles and rules. The faith of Helm has taught me that, and to stray from it will bring only disorder and ruin in the end. We must work for the greater order, even when our hearts may feel otherwise."  
  
"No!" Arra shouted, "For the greater good!"  
  
"Goodbye, Arra," Anomen grabbed the saddle and was about to hoist himself up when Arra put a hand over his and tried to kiss him on the cheek. He drew away and snorted.  
  
"But what about us?" she began to cry. "I...you said you loved me! And I gave myself to you, and now you're just going to abandon me like that?" her eyes narrowed, and hell's fury began to replace the sorrow she felt.  
  
"It is you who are abandoning me," Anomen claimed. "I thought you understood the world better. I explained the teachings of Helm to you, but I guess you were just nodding along! Deceitful wench, disrespecting my faith, disrespecting Helm! Perhaps if you see the light of his teachings, we shall speak again. I did love you, but until then, goodbye." He hopped up on his horse and kicked it in the ribs. "Giddyap!" he ordered it and began to ride off.  
  
"I HATE YOU!" Arra shouted after him. "HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A WITCH! YOU USED ME! YOU PURITANICAL, SELF-RIGHTEOUS, SLIMY, PHILANDERING, RELIGIOUS-FANATIC BASTARD! GOODBYE FOR GOOD!"  
  
He simply put up a dismissive brushing-aside hand gesture as he rode off across the dusty plain, beginning the long journey south again to Athkatla.  
  
Arra trudged back to the group again, choking back both rage and tears. "I'm sorry," Jaheira whispered to and hugged her while Onyx and Valygar politely ignored her.  
  
"Perhaps we'd best be getting back to the task at hand?" Valygar asked as tactfully as Valygar can, which isn't very.  
  
Jaheira and Arra both sighed. "You get back to it," Jaheira looked at her feet.  
  
"I don't...much feel like it just now," Arra frowned.  
  
Onyx and Valygar nodded and walked back around to the other side of the rock, where the bards still sat bound and silent while Minsc kept his longbow drawn.  
  
"Now...where were we?" Valygar asked faux-innocently as he walked back behind the Skald.  
  
Onyx sat upon a rock in front of the two bards. "It's like this," he began, "I will know when you're lying. Tempt me, and you'll soon find it out the hard way. Answer not, and you'll regret it. Answer falsely, and you'll regret it. Answer irrelevantly, and you'll regret it. Do not these things, and you'll have nothing to regret. Why protect this supplier of yours anyway? Your circus is already out of business, you've no more need for slaves from him, and he'll never know it was you that told, if you're afraid of him. Besides, I can see that you are both tieflings, plane- hoppers, I can't imagine he could hunt you down."  
  
The Jester simply continued to chuckle softly the entire time. The Skald tried to look stoic, but his lip quivered slightly.  
  
"Now," Onyx began, "Who is the man with the katanas, the one we know you met with recently, and does he command the Purple Sun Assassins we've seen?"  
  
Valygar began to press daggers into the shoulders of the Skald and the Jester while Onyx curled his ring-hand under his chin. The Skald gritted his teeth as the pain intensified and finally blurted out "Cyran! Saint Cyran! It is he, and yes, he commands the assassins!"  
  
Onyx felt his ring still cold and nodded to Valygar, who drew back. "And this is the same man who's been running the Cyricist propaganda and recruitment all over Athkatla?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"But if I'm not mistaken, he's quite a young man?"  
  
"Yes, about your same age actually, but the look of you," the Skald volunteered. Valygar smiled. It never failed - once you got someone subdued and talking, they usually warm up to it and talk more than they have to.  
  
"But this circus has been around for awhile. Do you or have you had another supplier? And does this Cyran work for him?"  
  
"Yes and yes," the Skald nodded. "The one he works for we know only as the Jeweler. An extremely ordinary-looking man actually, homely face, dirty blonde hair, medium height, small-time-merchant clothes."  
  
"And where is he?"  
  
"His base of operations is a sort of island, but not one that volunteers its head above the water. It is a sort of underwater mountain, upon which an underwater palace is built."  
  
"And where might this be? You'd best give me very specific information."  
  
"You are familiar with the gnoll stronghold, yes? Ah, I see you are. In fact, I suspect you must be, as I begin to think you are the one known as the Hero of Baldur's Gate, or the Last Bhaalspawn, or whatever the other bards are calling you these days. And I am familiar with your exploits at that stronghold, rescuing that Wychalarn out from under a bloodthirsty Thayvian Red Wizard, only to have another mad mage kill her soon after," the Skald smiled at Onyx's imperfect attempts at a poker face. "Go ahead, admit it, likely you enjoy boasting of your exploits. I am a lore-master, a skald, you know, and I probably know as much about your exploits as you, and many things you don't. Pity the information will die with me," he smirked.  
  
"Go on," Onyx stated. "And remember that any extra useful information you may volunteer may be repaid in the form of undue mercy."  
  
The Skald smirked. Paladins were so easy to barter with. "Very well. Perhaps you wondered why and when and by whom the gnoll stronghold was built - not by the beastly inhabitants you wiped out, which had become its namesake, even you must have inferred. I shall tell you."  
  
"When the world was young, she was hot, and lush, And other races did upon it rule the land; But then a comet, the Blazer, came down from the sky, A great ball of ice and dust, it down did slam. The ancients had built a magnificent palace, But had built it in a valley-trench, built it too low; As the comet-ice melted, and the dust filled the sky, The sky grew sunless and the ocean-waters rose. With ancient magics did they seal the palace up, And construct a tunnel 'cross the now-ocean-floor cold; And out pops this passage where the land still is, And 'pon that they build the now-gnoll-stronghold."  
  
Onyx nodded. "A flowery telling, but true and specific. And who is there? Surely this Jeweler retains a force for slave-capturing, holding, moving, and his own defense."  
  
"Yes," the Skald answered. "I've not actually been to this abandoned underwater palace the he occupies, but I hear he retains there a large force of constructs..."  
  
"Golems!" Valygar spat. "I hate golems! Cursed magic-made abominations."  
  
"...and undead, led by an ancient and powerful vampire couple,..."  
  
"And vampires!" Minsc cried. "Minsc hates vampires! They are mean and they tried to take Minsc's witch!"  
  
"...and for the slaving raids, before these Cyricists, he had other random groups of mostly-human mercenaries. Some you've had run-ins with - The Chill and the Black Talon, for example. It's been awhile since we've dealt with anyone other than this Cyricist faction; I know not whether the others are dead, no longer serve the Jeweler, or merely serve other clients now."  
  
"And how might once find this passage within the gnoll stronghold?" Onyx inquired. "I'll freely admit I am the one you think I am, and I did comb the stronghold, and found no such passages leading deep underground under the level of the ocean."  
  
"As you well know, the stronghold has several large pits on its roof - I believe your witch was in fact chained within one of these when you saw her - ah, don't look so surprised, as I said, I know more details of you and your adventures than you could possibly imagine. Anyway, stand just over one of these - the one Dynaheir was in, actually, and say:"  
  
"KLATOO, VERATA, NICTO. HAIL TO THE KING, BABY!"  
  
"...And the pit's floor shall slide way, and you shall see that the staircase that leads into the pit keeps going past this false floor; and shall lead down, and somewhere under the ground and the ocean, to the palace."  
  
"And this is the Jeweler's only lair?" Onyx raised and eyebrow.  
  
"That I know of. I'm quite sure he hasn't left it since he started sending Cyran to do his negotiation for him," the Skald offered.  
  
"And these Cyricists, what more do you know of them?" Onyx inquired. "Where their Athkatla base of operations is, for example; any other lairs they may have."  
  
"I know little of their Athkatla operations. You paladins always seem to have this idea that all us so-called villains are always in league together. I care nothing of them other than that they supply me with slaves!"  
  
"Supplied you," Onyx smiled. "Past tense now."  
  
The Skald looked dejected. "No matter. I'm sure some of them must reside in this palace, and I have heard that they also have a lair in a mountain somewhere, but which one, or even which range, I've no idea. The assassin squads seem to operate in continuous travel, going here and there to capture and deliver slaves, camping or using inns, making or buying gear as they go, keeping away from bases. That's what makes them so difficult to track down for the likes you and all the other religion-suppression-types, I guess," the Skald smirked.  
  
"When worship includes acts of terror and murder, you may say I suppress that, yes," Onyx smirked back.  
  
"Bah, what do I care of them anyway," the Skald rolled his eyes. "Anything else you'd like to know, Sir Inquisitor?"  
  
"You said you knew something about me. What?"  
  
"You have a sword in your possession - one of your many, I could list them all, Onyx, you know - the Burning Earth. You found it in Durlag's Tower, it was taken and sold by Irenicus, but did not travel far before you found it again."  
  
"And what of it," Onyx demanded, but he already felt somehow uneasy. The Burning Earth.the one that felt as if it were made for a hand utterly unlike his own.  
  
"Tell me, when one of your witches identified it for you, what words sprang into their minds? Don't worry, I am familiar with the weapon myself, and I'll recite them for you:"  
  
"There was a time before Neverwinter was warm and before the great Anauroch was dry...or so it is said. Few relics remain to prove such an age existed, and fewer still have an identifiable purpose. 'The Burning Earth' seems straightforward enough -it burns a victim with magical fire, and a cryptic rune seems to suggest that the power comes from the ground itself- but whomever constructed it remains a mystery. It looks a perfectly serviceable weapon, but something in the balance or grip is...wrong. It strains the forearm a touch, and does not fit the hand just right. It doesn't seem to hurt a warrior's performance, aside from the nagging doubt that the blade was not made for him...or any other humanoid."  
  
"So you know of my sword, and its lore," Onyx scoffed, "Big deal. What bard doesn't?"  
  
"I know more," the Skald smiled. "Someone is looking for it."  
  
"Who?" Onyx demanded.  
  
"That even I do not know," the Skald smirked, "But I've heard middlemen seeking it for quite a price. Someone wants it, Onyx. Someone wants it.back."  
  
Onyx glanced at his ring, hoping it would tingle, but it did not. "Let them come get it," he scowled and turned his back.  
  
"Now, what about that mercy?" the Skald asked politely as Onyx continued to look away.  
  
"Ah yes," Valygar withdrew his katanas from their shoulder sheaths, and held them behind the bards, watching the edges gleam in the moonlight. "That's between you and whoever rules your particular layer of the Abyss." With a flash, he swung the katanas in wide arcs forward and beheaded them both cleanly. The Skald's head plopped at its feet, and the Jester's went rolling along the desert floor, laughing all the way.  
  
**********  
  
11 FLAMERULE 0100 THE SEA OF SWORDS - THE UNDERSEA PALACE  
  
Jarek Bond came to, and immediately noticed that he was tied to the chair he was in. He looked about the room. It was made all of marble, and there were many large windows against the far wall, through which he could see not sky, but ocean. His eyebrows sprang up as he realized he was underwater and saw fish and sharks and giant squid swimming by outside the windows. The air was clean and cold, and deadly silent. There was a table in front of him, and across it, a high-backed chair turned the other way.  
  
Without warning, the chair spun around, revealing itself to be occupied by an extremely ordinary-looking man with dirty-blonde hair, freckled skin, and plain clothing. He held a puffy white cat in one hand and was stroking it repetitively, almost manically.  
  
"At last me meet, Mr. Bond," he smiled. Jarek heard someone walk up behind him, and though he could barely move to look around, soon felt and saw familiar, slender hands sporting purple fingergails drop onto and rub his chest. "I believe you already know - so to speak - Bucki Ryder. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Jeweler." 


	9. The Ninth Longsword

9. The Ninth Longsword  
  
11 FLAMERULE 0100 EAST OF NASHKEL  
  
"It is done."  
  
Jaheira, Arra, and Minsc, who had just been joined by Onyx, turned to the voice of Valygar as he came from around the rocks toward them, cleaning off his katanas. Onyx nodded, and told the others what the Skald had told him about Cyran and the Jeweler's lair. "Are you all in?" he asked of his four remaining companions, and four heads nodded unhesitantly but wearily. "Good. But first, I think it's time for a much-deserved rest," and the four heads nodded again.  
  
In the Temple of Lathander, the priests were busy making preparations for the wave of freed elves, trying to make the temple as habitable for a large number as possible. "Onyx! Arra!" cried the welcome and familiar voice of Dawn Raybringer, and the priestess strode up to and hugged them. "I'd hoped to see you; since I knew you'd be following that circus to Beregost, I decided to come too. Thought you might need a helping - or healing - hand."  
  
"Actually," Onyx smiled magnetically, "You couldn't be more right. We have.lost our cleric - no, no, not like that, he simply decided to go his on way after the battle." Jaheira shot Onyx a slight scowl that had 'I am a priest too, buster' written all over it.  
  
"Oh, that's too bad," Dawn pouted, "He seemed quite nice.for a Helmite!" she grinned, and Onyx couldn't help but join. "My healing services are at your disposal then."  
  
"Actually," Onyx smiled, "We are fine at the moment, but I was wonder if you'd lend your services.to the mission," which he then explained.  
  
Dawn beamed. "Why, I'd be delighted! It is truly a good cause. Vampires, you say? Then there's someone else I think should come too." she turned and called to a young lady paladin, ".Buffy!"  
  
The woman in question, a girl perhaps still in her teens, came bouncing up. She wore shiny, shapely, rose-hued full plate amply adorned with emblems of Lathander, had long but styled blonde hair, and a cheerful, almost glamorous grin. Dawn introduced her to the group, "Meet Buffy the Undead Hunter!"  
  
"Totally!" Buffy laughed. "Vampire slayer extraordinaire, so like where are we goin..oh my god!" she screamed, "It's Sir Onyx! I am such a big fan of your work, mister!" Jaheira was rolling her eyes so much it was almost making Minsc dizzy. Correction - it WAS making Minsc dizzy. "Like, for example, I know what you did last summer, you killed that bitch Bodhi and all those vampires in Athkatla, that was so totally hot!"  
  
"Why, thank you, Lady Buffy," Onyx nodded, trying to balance modesty and bravado. "But what about you? I still don't know what you did last summer."  
  
"Oh me?" as Buffy talked, she seemed to be smacking something in her mouth, like food, but she never swallowed. "Well, so I had this totally hot boyfriend right, and then this complete vamp-slut comes along and turns him, and so Dawn and I and some other Lathander girls had to go and toast them at the old Ulcaster School around here. It was cool, but I wish they'd had a lair closer to the beach or something."  
  
Onyx nodded approvingly, if a bit puzzled. "Well, you're in luck this time," he said and explained the mission.  
  
"Alright!" Buffy clapped her hands exuberantly, and Onyx noticed she had long, colored nails; almost like a vampiress's, except pink. "Oh my god it's Daystar!" she almost screamed, "I've got a sunblade too!" she pulled out a longsword that fairly resembled Daystar, "This one's called Goldenedge! But I like to call it Tanedge, because its sunray is great for tanning when it's cloudy!" She handed the sword to Onyx, he flipped it around approvingly while looking quite bemused at her anecdotes. "And I usually wield it with a mace of disruption too! You shoulda been there when I totally smacked that vamp-slut."  
  
Minsc scratched his head and looked to Boo for interpretation, Jaheira's eyes had stopped rolling and had glazed over, Valygar was letting his dreadlocks hang over his face, and Arra was completely spaced out and fuming about Anomen. Onyx was listening politely, but it was looking like it was gonna be a long night.  
  
**********  
  
11 FLAMERULE 0200 THE SIGIL - THE STAR BARS CANTINA  
  
The hopping, high-energy, never-sleeps Gorgon Village district of the Sigil is filled with bars, nightclubs, cantinas, and cabarets of all natures and tastes, running from the dark and low-key to the spastically high-energy. The Star Bars Cantina was a middle-of-the-road venue in the middle of it all; often a low-key bar but known to fits of live music and dancing. At the moment, creatures of all shapes and sizes from almost every plane in the Ring occupied the bar, the dance floor, and the tables. Strange, slightly upbeat music came wafting from a live band. Over the bar and surrounded by empty glasses of the multiverse's most potent drinks sat a tattooed tiefling.  
  
This was Haer'Dalis, and he looked uncharacteristically gloomy. All sorts of females - and some males - approached him at the bar periodically, some with tentacles, or goat legs, or bat wings, crab pincers, etc - but the normally promiscuous Haer would have none of it. He was almost literally drowning himself in sorrow and drink, and had placed upon the table a 'phoetograeph;' an invention of a wizard's by which the energy of a sunray was reflected of a scene or persons back onto a thin silver-alloy film, causing the image to imprint itself upon the film. The one Haer had before himself now was a picture of him and his brothers Seth'Dalis and Jakk'Dalis, better known as the Skald and the Jester. It was a picture of them on the beach, toasting pina coladas and surrounded by bikini-clad tieflingettes, during a vacation to the Isles of the Blessed in the layer of Thalasia in the plane of Elysium, long, long ago. Haer began to cry.  
  
At a nearby table sat four figures. On one side were two robed humans, a young man and an old man. On the other side sat a roguish looking man and a very tall and hairy beast.  
  
"Well," the swashbuckler was explaining to the two across the table, "the Century Hawk may not look like much, but she made the Kessel Run in under twelve parsecs!"  
  
"MRRRHHHAH!!!" the beast next to him groaned in agreement.  
  
The old man across the table thought for a second, and then said with a wise voice, "Very well, but remember, no questions asked."  
  
"BRRGAH BLLLAH OORGA BO!!!" shouted a very ugly-looking lower planes denizen as he walked up to the table and waved a strange weapon about threateningly. The old man got up from the table, and immediately with a "VVVVMMMP" sound conjured some sort of glowing energy sword into his hand and sliced off one of the creature's arms and then its head. He sat down and resumed negotiations while the rest of the bar calmly resumed their own business. Such things were not uncommon in this cantina, not uncommon at all.  
  
Haer lifted himself his face out of the puddle of drinks and tears he was forming on the bar surface and looked at his picture again. His minded flooded back to some of his earliest members with his brothers. Being taken care of by a kind, matronly Tanar'ri cow in a Sigil day care. Going to school with his brothers, and always getting into trouble for skipping class, sleeping in class, talking in class, or getting unpopular teachers sucked into other dimensions or eaten by baatezus as practical jokes. Competing to see who could rack up the most lovers or the weirdest lovers (he had won the former with an unspeakable number of conquests; the Skald had won the latter with a quarter-sea-elf-quarter-baatezu-quarter-succubus- quarter-deva vampiress). Taking trips and vacations to practically every plane on the Ring - Elysium, the Abyss, Bytopia, Mechanus, the Quasielemental Planes of Radiance and Steam, Pandemonium, Gehenna, The Elemental Plane of Water, the Paraelemental Planes of Smoke and Ice, the Prime of course, and more. Founding a small comedy troupe with his brothers to make their way in the world; running shows across the Sigil, the Prime, and the multiverse. Growing the troupe into a huge circus several-hundred crew and slaves strong. Leaving his stake with his brothers to join Raelis's smaller, more serious acting troupe. Traveling the multiverse with them, playing all sorts of imaginable parts in hundreds of plays, and loving all sorts of imaginable lovers in hundreds of beds. Trying to steal a gem from his old creditor Mekrath and getting captured. And getting rescued. By Onyx. Finding dear Aerie again only to be woefully cast away! Traveling with the troupe again, returning to his brothers and the circus, only to have it all destroyed! By Onyx.  
  
As Haer's thoughts ran over this last part of his life story, he realized that there was in fact now another bard in the cantina, who was singing and playing. Who was singing these last events of his very own life. Singing of the battle in Beregost onto the night before.  
  
"HOW COULD YOU KNOW SO FAST!" he screamed as he spun around and grabbed the other tiefling by the throat. The music stepped and many looked on at the outburst, but none interfered.  
  
"News.travels.gaak.fast.it be the Sigil, man.." The bard gasped, "Three high-note cambions like the Blade, Skald, and Jester get dead- booked, they'll sing the sing about it, word'll dance round the Ring right fast."  
  
"But.HOW." Haer'Dalis snarled.  
  
"I dinna.I dinna! Some o' the crew 'scapes the dead-bookin and gets back to the Pain Domain, sings my guess! I dinna!"  
  
"Oh really," Haer smiled, "Sounds like you are a man of means, a man of methods, a man who's in the know, who knows what's what in the Prime?"  
  
"You could sing it," the bard shrugged, "I could sing the sing of a few more, if it sate your listening."  
  
"Indeed," Haer'Dalis grinned, "Tell me right quick, you know of these who killed the ringleaders, yes?"  
  
"Aye, we trace their faces," the bard nodded, "They was the danger- troupe what dead-booked the other Bhaalchilluns in the War ended last week, was they. That Bhaal-bred berk-knight, his old widow-protector-soulmate- druid, their hamster-friended friend stepped outa Rasheman, another magic- scornin ranger, a Helmer, and a fightin-wizard pointy-ear."  
  
"Yes yes," Haer nodded, "Now tell me of this berk-knight, you know his.other lover, yes?"  
  
"Other? I heard sing o' but one. She be the wing-chopped air-elf?"  
  
"Aye," Haer smiled, "Where is she?"  
  
"Last we heard it sung," the bard shrugged, "She was-a napping in Athkatla, and then traipsed with tha berk-knight's Bhaal-sister back to their book-town homepot."  
  
".Candlekeep," Haer smiled, "the air-elf and the eternal-child-sister are there now?"  
  
"Aye, they be traipsing there as we speak, 'long with the ring-bonded keep-princess, or so the singin' goes."  
  
"Thank you soooo much," Haer grinned devilishly and let go of the bard's neck, sending him collapsing and gasping. "And one more thing! You've left a few things out of your tale! Firstly, the widow-druid, she is HIS LOVER now, get it? Include that in your tale! C'mon, romance, betrayal, cheating, it always sells. Make sure you spread that rum- eh, new development, that he's betrayed his little avariel, he's taken another yes, spread that in your stories, across the Sigil, across the Multiverse, and back to the PRIME! Change your tune; a little something like this:" Haer'Dalis cleared his throat and began to sing so that every person in the cantina, particularly the other bards, could hear.  
  
"And as their quest wore on and on, And o'er nights they slept 'pon the road; Feelings stirred within the Bhaal-knight, Despite his hollow chivalric code! For he had back home a betrothed, you see, A wingless avariel to whom he swore he was true; But as he and the druid lady journeyed along, Emotions reawakened and passions grew. And then, it seems, as the circus drew near, And they were 'bout to attack the ringleaders brave, Did the paladin and druid consecrate, Their newfound love with acts depraved!"  
  
"Yes, something like that, perhaps at the end of the fifth verse, yes, it will go nicely there!" Haer laughed.  
  
"Y-yes sir!" the man gasped. "Yes, that angle will sell, an angle like that always does. But how do you know that's true?"  
  
"Don't worry! You're a bard, a story-teller, such things are not important! That's what the knights and wizards never understand!" he screamed, now to the audience in general. "Oh, they may think they have the upper hand in steel or sorcery, but they underestimate the power of the harp! The power of information! The power of rumor and gossip and public opinion! Winning means winning the masses. Oh, we'll show him, we will! And one more thing," he smiled in the bard's face, "the Blade didn't die, he escaped..and he will have his revenge! He'll avenge the bloodthirsty Bhaal- blooded womanizing rogue paladin!"  
  
Haer'Dalis did a backflip and landed up on the stage, and sang for the audience.  
  
"Upon love's light wings I go without erring, To fetch what prize of mine is due, I'll show that berk-knight the folly of caring, I'll steal from him his lover true! And then he'll see, he'll have to share, The pain of my dear brothers killed and gone, He'll see what happens when we dare to care, He'll see finally his wisdom's wrong."  
  
Then the tiefling blade ran out of the cantina headed for the nearest Portal Port.  
  
**********  
  
11 FLAMERULE 0600 EAST OF NASHKEL  
  
Before sunrise, in the open semidesert outside the Temple of Lathander, whose stained glass windows glowed with light and warmth and whose walls encased the freed elves, the clergy, and the adventurers now housed and sleeping within, Onyx stood alone upon the bare, sandy soil. The air was warm but a felt a faint chill. The windy night air? Must be.  
  
Someone wants it, Onyx. Someone wants it.back.  
  
Onyx opened the bag of holding at his belt, and found the hilt of the Burning Earth. As he pulled it out, the darkness was illuminated by the dull red-orange glow of sword's inner fire. He looked at the blade. It was not like the leaping, bright fire of Angurvadal, Stonefire, or the Flail of Ages. It was a deep, flowing, liquid flame, like molten metal. Or rock- magma. He gripped the hilt tighter, and closed his eyes. It felt like the world around him was spinning, and when he opened them again, he saw nothing. Cold and complete darkness. Darker than when his eyes had been closed.  
  
He blinked again, and he was in an utterly foreign landscape. The ground was bare and rocky, and faraway mountains rose up. No, not mountains, volcanoes. He looked around. Lava was running everywhere, spewing out of the volcanoes and running over the rocky land around him. There was light and heat, but no life.  
  
He blinked again. Now the mountains were covered in dense jungles, and he could barely see them for the ferns and strange, huge flowers around him. He thought he saw enormous shapes, far too big to be birds, but not quite resembling dragons, flying through the sky. He heard a roar behind himself and turned again. In the darkness, he could barely make out the shadow of some huge beast far away, standing above the trees, standing upon two legs, its huge open mouth showing glimmering fangs as large and sharp as his swords. It seemed to see him, its eyes glowing, and then crouched forward and began to charge on its large hind legs while waving its small forelegs.  
  
Onyx blinked again and now the landscape was drier and the beast gone, but he saw other strange shapes in the shadows. Then a burst of light appeared in the sky and a huge orb came flying from the heavens. It crashed into the horizon, shaking the land violently, and giving off a gigantic mushroom- shaped cloud. Dust and ice flew from the direction of the impact, the dust filling the sky and blocking out the light of the moon and stars, the ice melting before it hit the ground, beginning a flash flood around him.  
  
He blinked again, and the air was colder and the foliage sparser, and he saw small furry creatures swarming around him, and tried to stab at them, but he could not.  
  
He blinked again and they were gone, but another creature, still furry, but much larger, swung from branch to branch of a nearby tree.  
  
He blinked again and he thought he saw two figures near him. In the light of his sword, he could see they were a man and an elf, but donned with furs and clubs like barbarians, standing near the bank of a fast river. He called to them but they did not hear. They fought each other with clubs, but they stopped and turned, along with Onyx, when a scream pierced the night. Onyx thought it was the same sword-fanged beast from before, but when he looked, it was both similar and not. It was smaller, but still large and scaly and toothy, and still ran on its hind legs, but now its forelegs were more like forearms, with thumbs, and now it had wings. And it grinned toothily and its eyes glowed, but the face seemed to have a sentient expression, not of beastly hunger, but of intelligent malice. It was like the first beast, but also like a dragon, but also like a demon, and yet also like a man.  
  
The two barbarians who had been fighting now seemed to chatter together and ran toward the beast side by side, past Onyx, ignoring him completely. The beast seemed to laugh as it drew out a monstrous, wildly flaming sword. The beast pointed the sword forward and from its tip launched a ball of flame, which exploded in front of the two barbarians as if a dragon had breathed upon them. Both fell, their flesh and weapons burning as they screamed in agony. The monster stopped and laughed again. The elf soon lay still, but then the man, though his skin all over was burned almost to the muscle, rose again and growled, drawing a bone dagger from the fur coat which was now burned and matted into his flesh, grimacing at the pain. The monster raised its sword, and as it swung down, and crashed through the man and sliced deep into his chest, but the man seemed to be aiming his bone dagger carefully. He hit the edge of the sword's hilt with his dagger, where Onyx now noticed a red pommel gem was inset, and used his last strength to wedge and twist the dagger. The pommel gem popped from its place and fell to the ground. The beast screamed horribly as the sword dulled but continued to run the man through with it.  
  
The sword grew smaller and dimmer with the loss of its pommel gem, and Onyx now recognized it. He looked down at his own sword, and then back to the one he saw. It was the Burning Earth.  
  
The beast now reached down to retrieve the gem, but before it grasped it, the body of the burned elf moved again and seized it. The elf stood, screaming as his flesh fell from his skeleton, and flung the gem into the river. Still holding the sword in the man, and twisting it cruelly, the monster screamed in rage and raked across the elf with his other claw, easily tearing his body to pieces, but then the skewered human twisted his body and pulled the sword from the monster's grasp. He ran, with the sword sticking through his body, toward the riverbank, and leaped in. His burned body fell apart as he hit the water, but the sword then disappeared beneath it. The beast ran screamed to the edge of the water, howling at its edge, seeming afraid to go in.  
  
Onyx blinked again and was back outside the Temple of Lathander. He looked closely at the Burning Earth, and at its hilt. When he had first acquired the sword, and known barely anything about enchanted weapons, he had noticed the shallow, round concavity, but had thought it mere aesthetic design. Much later in his travels, more familiar with powerful swords, he had learned of the nature of magic pommel gems and augmented several of his weapons, such as the Equalizer and Carsomyr, with them, but had never taken another close look at the Burning Earth, no longer one of his better weapons. He studied it now though, and the groove was unmistakable. It was meant for a pommel gem. Which was missing.  
  
Someone wants it, Onyx. Someone wants it.back.  
  
Onyx opened his bag of holding and put it away, but an excited "Hey man it's getting stuffy in here! Let's go kill something already!" wafted out of the bag before he closed it again.  
  
"Soon Lile, soon," Onyx smiled.  
  
"Say," Lilacor asked, "What's with you and Burning Earth anyway? Don't tell me you prefer its companionship to mine! C'mon, it can't even talk, much less sing and orate. Hey, want to hear this new tune I've been working on? 'I was cleavin' through an orrrrc, and what do I see, but a cute scimitar in the next orc lookin' back at meeeee! So I..' "  
  
"Er, maybe later," Onyx winced at Lilacor's atonal performance. "So I don't suppose you know anything about Burning Earth here?"  
  
"Hmmm," Lilacor thought (as much as Lilacor can be said to 'think'), "Perhaps a bit more than what a standard identification spell when tell you. You know, like a lot of swords, he's not sentient, but he does have an.ego, if you will."  
  
"How do you mean?" Onyx was puzzled.  
  
"Let's try this," Lilacor suggested, "Pull me out and draw a big square on the ground, maybe three by three."  
  
"Is this just a ploy to get some action?" Onyx smirked, "Boy, if you want me to drag your tip through sand, you must really be bored for real combat.."  
  
"You have NO idea!" Lilacor piped up, "But no, I'm serious."  
  
"Alright." Onyx sighed and pulled Lilacor out.  
  
"WOOHOO!!! I'm free! Those bags are STIFLING, man! And your Shield of the Order in there was really not my kinda company, let me tell you! Okay, yeah, that's a nice square. Well, decent. I guess there's a reason you weren't an artist, heh heh."  
  
"Oh, be quiet," Onyx rolled his eyes and completed the imperfect square.  
  
"It's good enough. Now, divide it into nine equal-size squares."  
  
"You're not challenging me to tic-tac-toe, are you?" Onyx asked suspiciously but traced the four lines required, putting a three-by-three grid in the sand.  
  
"Hey, don't give me ideas! Okay, now write labels along the four sides - Good, Evil, Order, Chaos."  
  
"Okay, I'm starting to see what you're driving at here," Onyx nodded and wrote them on the correct sides with Lilacor's tip. The night breeze had mercifully given way and so his letters stayed crisp. "I'm assuming this isn't ethics hopscotch we're playing."  
  
"Well, not far off," Lilacor admitted, "Now, draw out Daystar."  
  
After sticking Lilacor upright in the sand, Onyx quickly pulled Daystar out of its conveniently-placed sheath on his back.  
  
"As one of your mages probably divined for you, this sunblade was used to be Paladins of the Loyal Fury to fight evil and undead. Place Daystar."  
  
Onyx stuck Daystar into the upper-left square, just far enough so that it would stand.  
  
"Now draw out Peridan, the Dragonslayer." Onyx did. "Peridan was created long ago, when evil dragons threatened the first, fragile settlements of man. Place Peridan."  
  
Onyx stuck Peridan into the top-center square.  
  
"Now draw out the Blade of Roses, the charmer." Onyx did so, and smiled at the sword's unearthly splendor. "It was created by Sune, who is mischievous but good, to facilitate the promotion of a deserving soldier she favored. Place the Blade of Roses."  
  
Onyx stuck the Blade of Roses into the upper-right square.  
  
"Now draw out Angurvadal, the Stream of Anguish." Onyx did so, and looked at its flame, thinking of Burning Earth's. "This was created by Frithior. It was used to put his vampirized lover to rest - hence Anguish - and so made to keep its wielder safe from a vampires while it burns away her unnatural form. Frithior then became a Helmite, following his lord's tenets of destroying undead and preserving order. Place Angurvadal."  
  
Onyx stuck Angurvadal into the left-center square.  
  
"Now draw out the Equalizer, the Sword of Neutrality, a sword designed to eliminate extremes, and move the world toward harmonious balance."  
  
Onyx plunged the Equalizer into the central square.  
  
"Now draw out Namarra, the Neversleep," Onyx drew it out, and Lilacor's voice immediately sounded softer, "It's been seen everywhere from Chult to Thay, but as a habit of leaving its targets at a literal loss for words. Maybe made to silence wizards, but historically it has been a big practical joke."  
  
Onyx stuck Namarra into the right-center square.  
  
"Now draw out Adjatha, the Drinker," Onyx drew it out, it felt it trying to suck energy out of the very air. "The sword of the tyrant Dabber, it does what he did - weakens the already-weak and steals from them."  
  
Onyx stuck Adjatha into the lower-left square.  
  
"Now draw out Blackrazor, the Soul-Stealer," Onyx drew it out, and it felt like Adjatha, trying to absorb the energy around it, but much more so. "Pure evil." Lilacor said simply.  
  
Onyx stuck Blackrazor into the bottom-center square.  
  
"Draw out the Burning Earth, the Flametongue. The ninth longsword." Onyx drew it out and looked at it again, as uneasily as ever. "What is the alignment of base, violent monsters? The one who made and wielded this weapon long ago? The one who once walked across the prehistoric world sowing destruction? The one who named the sword after his goal: Burning Earth."  
  
Onyx stuck the Burning Earth into the bottom-right square.  
  
He looked at the grid, at the square of nine longswords sticking out of the ground. The pure sunlight of Daystar. The deep, crimson glow of the Dragonslayer. The unreal beauty of the Blade of Roses. The liquid-mercury burn of Angurvadal. The rainbow reflections of the Equalizer. The queer blank-white gleam of Namarra. The cold, hard steel of Adjatha. The sour evil haze of Blackrazor. The deep, earthy, slumbering firestorm of the Burning Earth. One in each square.  
  
"Yes. Funny that is should fall out this way," Lilacor opined.  
  
"I must destroy or hide the Burning Earth," Onyx decided, "As it is, I will do no more good for having it, and it may do much evil in the wrong hands - or claws."  
  
"As you like; I have no wisdom for such things," Lilacor spoke.  
  
Onyx began to dig a hole with his bare hands, deciding to bury the blade to keep it away from whomever, or whatever, might be seeking it. A raven flew down and perched upon a rock near Onyx. He continued working, but it peered at him intently. Before laying the blade in, Onyx took notice of it. When he moved the Burning Earth over the hole, the raven looked at it intently. Onyx looked at the bird uneasily. It met his gaze for only a moment, then looked back at the blade. Onyx moved it and the bird's eyes followed. Onyx threw a rock at the bird, and it easily flew from its perch to dodge the missile. It tried to land again but Onyx held another rock threateningly. It flew away and he resumed digging, but then noticed the bird circling overhead. It was peering down at him, its eyes flickering. The raven squawked.  
  
Someone wants it, Onyx. Someone wants it.back.  
  
Just as the sky was beginning to lighten with the oncoming dawn, Onyx reluctantly pulled the sword out of the hole. "It's not safe here," he muttered to Lilacor and put the Burning Earth back in his bag of holding. The raven squawked angrily and began to fly southwest.  
  
**********  
  
Buffy Female Human Lawful Good Undead Hunter Level 15 STR 18(08) DEX 10 CON 17 INT 8 WIS 13 CHA 17 Crossbows ++ Longswords ++ Maces ++ Two Weapon Style +++ 


	10. Paladins Behaving Badly

10. The Paladin Hunters  
  
12 FLAMERULE 1200 ATHKATLA - THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE RADIANT HEART  
  
The largest office on the main floor of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart was ostentatious beyond belief. The carpet was practically thick enough for a thief to hide in, the carefully chiseled stone walls were covered with thick, intricately woven tapestries made in Calimshan but cleverly made and marketed with northern knights in mind and the scenes they depicted had been chosen accordingly. What wall space wasn't covered in tapestries, and some that was, was used to hang and display various enchanted weapons which would surely have done more good in the hands of a warrior in the field than upon the walls of this office. The furniture in the room was all made of expertly crafted marble. Such as the table, upon which a thick, gold-tasseled cloth was also draped, was stacked with a few paper but mostly shining baubles of precious stones and tiny statuettes of knights and castles. Such as the bookshelves, which were lined with histories, philosophies, and theologies written to exalt lawfulness, obedience, and virtue. Such as the many statues, which officially depicted Torm and various paladins of old, but in fact all their faces looked the same.  
  
This face belonged, of course, to the commissioner of all these statues and current tenant of this office, and he sat now at his desk, fiddling idly with his baubles. He looked up at an oak-and-gold grandfather clock against the wall and suddenly became quite agitated. "Where's my lunch!" he bellowed and pounded the table.  
  
The door opened and that sound and a freckled squire opened the door. "Y- you would like your lunch now, Sir?" the boy asked nervously.  
  
"Of course, you loitering dolt!" the fat knight screamed. "Look at the time! Merciful Helm! It's five past noon now! I have said my lunch is to be delivered at noon promptly! Look at this.insolence! This disobedience! This laziness! Can't you follow such a simple order, you idiot!? Is it stupidity, or is it sloth? No matter, whichever it is, with this kind of behavior you'll never make it into the Order, squire! And it's not just 'sir,' once-again-disobedient lackey! It is Sir Puritus Pontius Pilatus IV," he spat gobs of spittle as he pronounced his own name, "and you well know I come from a long line of esteemed knights of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, at least you do if you've been attending to your assigned studies!"  
  
"Of course," Sir Pilatus," the boy nodded, "I am quite familiar with the many great deeds of your great-grandfather, and those of your grandfather too!"  
  
Puritus smiled for a moment, but then his face fell to a scowl. "Yes, and what of my father's? What of me for that matter?"  
  
The boy thought carefully. "Well, Sir Pilatus, I know you are of great authority within the Order, as was your father, but I'm terribly sorry that I can't think of specific deed at the moment.I guess we haven't gotten to the more recent stuff yet."  
  
"Unstudious idiot!" Puritus screamed, his face turning red, "Fetch me my lunch! NOW!"  
  
"Yes, Sir Pilatus," the boy nodded and zipped away. Puritus coughed and pounded his chest once or twice. He had just opened a drawer at his desk and pulled out a flask when another figure appeared in the doorway and he sheepishly stashed it away again.  
  
"Don't you know how to knock, by Helm!" he shouted and looked up. "Why you..Sir Anomen Delryn! Good to see you again! How have you been? Remember that speech on morality you wrote and delivered at your knighthood ceremony? Look, I had it transcribed and hung on the wall here!" Puritus gestured to a framed scroll written in painstaking calligraphy. "Why, if half our boys showed the same sense of duty you do, we..well, I don't know, but I wish they would. Speaking of which, WHERE'S MY LUNCH!" he screamed out into the hall.  
  
Anomen had been smiling smugly but his curly hairs nearly straightened at Puritus's shrill scream. "Sir, might you have seen Sir Keldorn Firecam? I was looking for him but."  
  
"My lunch!" Puritus interrupted happily as the freckled boy came back into the room carrying a tray laden with meat and wine. He dug in as soon as it was set on the table, and declared, "Ah, yes, continue Sir Anomen," when he seemed to remember the man's presence.  
  
"I was looking for Sir Keldorn Firecam, sir," Anomen said, "But if you don't happen to know, I'll ask someone else, it's no trouble."  
  
Puritus began a motion to brush him off, but then stopped and beckoned towards himself. "Actually, tell me," he said in between chews, "You look quite bedraggled, like you just got in after a long journey," Anomen nodded, "Haven't you been gone for near a week? Pray tell, where've you been? And why do want to see Keldorn so bad now that you're back?"  
  
Anomen stammered for a second. "Well sir, I really think Keldorn would rather I find him first, it's kind of a long story, I.."  
  
"What?" Puritus screamed and his face reddened, "How dare you disobey me? Do you want to be demoted back to squire?"  
  
"Forgive me sir!!" Anomen gasped with a terrified look, "Very well. I left to undertake a mission at Sir Firecam's direction, and I've returned to report on it."  
  
"Ah, you completed the mission then?" Puritus smiled. "Excellent work! But pray tell, why wasn't I informed?"  
  
"Well sir, I suppose it's because you're too important to be bothered with the details of every single knight here," Anomen grinned and drew a proud chuckle from Puritus, "Actually, the mission wasn't completed, but.well, I'll spare you the details."  
  
Puritus nodded skeptically but gave a beckoning gesture. "Tell more, please..."  
  
"Ah, Anomen! There you are!" shouted Keldorn as he burst into the room. "One of the squires mentioned you'd come in."  
  
Puritus gave a wry grin. "Yes, Anomen was just about to deliver his news; glad you could join us."  
  
"But of course," Keldorn gave Puritus a suspicious look, "It was me he was looking for, after all."  
  
"Of course," Puritus smiled, "But given that I am the ranking knight in this room, and that...obfuscation is not becoming of a member of the Order...I'm sure Anomen will have no objection to giving his report here and now." He beckoned to Anomen again.  
  
"Well," the young Helmite began, "The mission was basically going well. We followed the circus through the Cloudpeaks and Nashkel, dispatching a gang of Purple Sun Assassins - the manpower behind the slaving raids, it seems - at each location, although Jarek was captured by one of them in Nashkel and we haven't heard from him since." Keldorn nodded at this news, but not with a terribly grave look on his face, as like Arra he was used to Bond's in- and-out-of-trouble misadventures. "So we continued to Beregost, and during the circus performance we, eh, got involved..."  
  
"Got involved," Keldorn arched an eyebrow. "Engaging one's adversary under a big top is hardly a low-profile move..."  
  
Puritus was looking even more suspicious. "Tell me this isn't what I think it is," he growled at Keldorn. "You know the Council's position on this! If word that the Order was involved..."  
  
"Let him finish," Keldorn interrupted Puritus.  
  
"Why, you insubordinate old..." Puritus growled under his breath but beckoned to Anomen to resume.  
  
"Well," the priest continued, "We ended up fighting the circus crew during the show, and basically wiped them all out..."  
  
Keldorn slapped his forehead. "If that Bhaalspawn isn't a walking wave of wanton destruction, I'll be Torm's underpants!"  
  
"You put that BHAALSPAWN cavalier on this!?" Puritus's mouth hung open. "Firecam, you FOOL! You know he can't be trusted! What in the nine hells were you thinking!?"  
  
"Just continued, Anomen," Keldorn sighed.  
  
"Well, the SIX of us basically wiped them out," Anomen stuck his nose up proudly, "We managed to capture two of the three ringleaders alive, the third got away, and then Onyx and Valygar eh, interrogated the two using means unbecoming a knight and unbecoming the philosophies Helmites hold dear."  
  
"They TORTURED them!?" Puritus screamed. "If word of this ever gets out...the entire reputation of the Order will be ruined! Do you have any idea of what you've done, Keldorn? What were you thinking! I can't believe you let that green hot-headed fiend-blooded vampire-loving maverick-paladin on a mission that we weren't supposed to be involved with in the first place! How in the hells a subhuman Bhaalspawn can be a paladin in the first place, I'll never know, why he didn't lose his crest long ago I don't understand either, and why we made him a full Order member a month-odd ago still hasn't been properly explained to me, and how you could be so stupid, reckless, and insubordinate as to let this situation arise I can't even fathom!"  
  
Anomen was shaking in his boots, and Keldorn was gulping but staying reasonably calm. "Well," the aged inquisitor began, "I too can't say I approve of his methods, I've certainly never approved of that vampiric longsword I hear he carries.."  
  
"Blackrazor!" Anomen sneered, "And he has another, a two-hander, Gram, the ancient Sword of Grief! Tis poisonous and vampiric!"  
  
Keldorn's eyes arched, "Well, okay, I certainly don't approve of the vampiric swords," he emphasized the 's', "he carries, I've long been suspicious of the influence of his heritage, and I'll never forgive him for associating with that vile drow witch - did you know when I confronted him about it, he told ME to take a hike?..."  
  
"I believe he did part with her soon after," Anomen scratched his beard. "I seem to recall him mentioning the story when we crossed paths. Of course, he ended up parting ways with me too, when he couldn't handle seeing and hearing how a REAL knight should behave. Never mentioned why they split apart though."  
  
"Likely she ended up trying to hypnotize, seduce, and then sacrifice him and he ended up having to fight for his life! I warned him something like that would happen!" Keldorn scoffed. "Well, as long as he killed her in the end... Anyway, while his list of shortcomings is rather long, and perhaps we should consider some sort of punitive action..."  
  
"...such as expulsion from the Order!" Anomen chided eagerly. This was, after all, the thing he most feared in the world, and so naturally he projected the same onto Onyx.  
  
"...yes, or something, at least he seems to have foiled that circus, and hopefully is now going after the slavers..."  
  
"Are you DEAF?" Puritus screamed. "I told you then and I'll tell you now the mission is a mistake from the start! You know the Council's position on this! The circus, or any organization accused of slaving, is not to be attacked or spied upon, but to be given due process of law, and arraigned to appear in court before the government of Athkatla! Moreover, Beregost is well out of our jurisdiction!"  
  
"We did arraign them, remember?" Keldorn sighed. "And the circus ringleaders just never showed up in court! What did you think would happen?"  
  
"It doesn't matter!" Puritus whined, "That's the law! That's how you deal with these things! Lawfully!" Anomen nodded along obsequiously, "You can't just go around invading and attacking and taking careless action! You have to talk, you have to discuss, you have to negotiate, you have to have meetings and tribunals...."  
  
"We've tried that," Keldorn sighed. "The circus usually mails the Council a jack-in-the-box or a flaming bag of donkey dung when it tries to arrange a meeting with them! Even if they didn't send someone, they'd just give us the run-around. Like whenever the Council meets with the Calmishanis. They just flatter and make empty, vaguely-worded but pleasant- sounding promises they never intend to keep!"  
  
"But that doesn't give Onyx a license to just go around being a hero- er, vigilante!" Anomen stomped his foot.  
  
"It doesn't give us a license to break our hallowed rules, or knowingly allow one of our members to do this same," Puritus stared Keldorn down.  
  
"Of course," Keldorn sighed, "Onyx is operating outside acceptable parameters. In many ways. We've put up with his cavalier, unknightly attitude long enough, and he should be punished appropriately when he returns. But as a practical matter, Anomen, unless you stayed around to hear what those tortured bards had to say or know where he's going at all..." the Helmite shook his head, "I doubt we'll see him until after he's finished his wild goose chase."  
  
"What do you know, Sir Delryn?" Puritus asked.  
  
"I believe the slavers' base is located somewhere near the coast, north of the Cloudpeaks and south of Beregost. That's pretty wide, but I'm certain the party will go to Candlekeep directly afterwards, assuming they survive their confrontation with the slavers. Onyx's fiancé and sister were going to meet them there."  
  
"Ah yes," Puritus smiled, "I am familiar with that, actually, that unladylike de'Arnise brat also left with them just yesterday. Dwein Seroindose has been...complaining...about her. Speaking of which, we need to wrap his little fiasco up, or he will have my - I mean, our - heads. He won't take lightly to the Order overstepping itself like this. He'll use anything he can to undermine the Order and transfer power to the Council and the Cowled Wizards, whom he can control much better. We have only one option - we have to go along with Dwein, he IS our leader after all, he is the law - it's the right and lawful thing to do, and it's in the Order's best interests. He won't mind the Order so much if we show him that it's...amicable to his own noble aims."  
  
Keldorn was looking pallid and arched an eyebrow. "Noble?"  
  
"It's not our place to question Dwein Seroindose!" Puritus snapped. "He is the law! And before he finds out we've broken his edicts, we need to wrap up this mission! We need to bury it!"  
  
"Bury....?" Keldorn asked suspiciously.  
  
"Yes," Puritus nodded. He raised his voice and shouted, "Son! Judas! Adonis!"  
  
Immediately three paladins came walking into the room from the next office. They were all young and in very good shape. The first one looked much like his father, except he was not fat - yet. He had an arrogant smirk, and a tight dark goatee and hair. In fact he bore a certain physical and personal resemblance to Anomen, but was taller and seemed more confident. He wore full plate generously adorned with tabards of the Order and of Torm and Helm, as well as his own family crest, largest of all. The second knight looked the tallest and strongest, had jet-black hair, deep- set green eyes, strong, angular features, and a deep, resolute scowl. His armor was the plainest of the three, but displayed the scales of Tyr. The third had smooth golden skin, longish and carefully styled blonde hair, painstakingly plucked eyebrows, bright blue eyes and shining white teeth, and a practiced, almost lustful smile. This armor was richly illustrated and even colorful, and also bore some emblems of Sune.  
  
"A paladin of..Sune?" Keldorn raised a skeptical eyebrow.  
  
"Not just any paladin," the blonde man smiled while flipping a wrist, "Sir Adonis Narcissus, roseknight of Sune!" he smiled, swept back his nymph's cloak, and rested his hands upon the shortswords at his hilt which Anomen noticed looked similar to Onyx's Blade of Roses.  
  
"And Sir Judas Iscarias, justicar of Tyr!" boomed the tall man and touched a gauntlet to the balanced-scaled emblem on his chest.  
  
"And Sir Puritus Pontius Pilatus V, watcher knight of Helm!" smiled the goateed man, and Puritus IV gave a proud smile. "What is your bidding, father?"  
  
"A certain paladins and member of the Order has.gone rogue," Puritus IV sneered, "Though we don't know whether he is yet fallen, he is currently somewhere in the southwestern Sword Coast area. He has last been seen in Beregost, we don't know where he will go immediately after, but eventually he should make his way to Candlekeep."  
  
"As long as he stays in Beregost," Anomen added trying to be helpful, "You may find him at the Temple of Lathander if not at one of the inns - the Jovial Juggler, if I know his tastes."  
  
"Hmmph!" Adonis puffed while inspecting his neatly filed fingernails, "Feldepost's Inn is sooooo much classier!" Pontius V smirked and nodded in agreement.  
  
"Actually, Anomen," Puritus IV smiled, "Perhaps you'd like to go with them. You would know of his possible whereabouts best, you seem to have a..welcome dedication.to the nature of the mission, and another devotee of Helm is welcome on any mission. What about you, old Keldorn?"  
  
The old inquisitor looked about nervously, "I.have much to attend to here."  
  
"Then you are dismissed," Puritus declared coldly. Keldorn gave an equal terse head-bow and left with a dark grimace on his face.  
  
Puritus IV looked over the four younger knights carefully. "Excellent, but..perhaps one more."  
  
Puritus V smiled. "How about that little runt who's been bugging us for a commission? Unless you.wouldn't want to risk something happening to her on a potentially dangerous mission like this," he smirked sarcastically.  
  
"Yes," Puritus IV said, "But I suppose if she were to fall in the line of duty, that would be sort of paladinic end she strives for, wouldn't it? Squire-boy!" he shouted into the hall.  
  
"Y-yes, Sir Pilatus?" the freckled boy squeaked from the hall.  
  
"Fetch Miss um..the halfling!"  
  
"Yes sir!" the boy declared and ran off.  
  
"Hobbit paladins," Puritus IV scoffed while going over to a bookshelf, "That'll be the day. Over my full-size dead body." He pulled out an especially thick tome of Helmite moral doctrine and handed it to his son. "This'll get you into Candlekeep if need be."  
  
"You called, sir?" a short red-headed woman asked politely as she appeared in the doorway.  
  
"Ah yes, Miss, ah." Puritus V tried to remember her name.  
  
"Lady Mazzy Fentan," the halfling declared proudly and put her tiny hands on her hips.  
  
"Ah yes, of course. Well, you wanted a mission, now you've got one. Along with these fine gentlemen here, you are to track down a rogue paladin and.bring him to justice."  
  
Mazzy looked skeptical. "Who is he, what did he do, and what does bringing him to justice entail?"  
  
"Well," Puritus IV smiled nervously, "He is that former Bhaalspawn known as Onyx."  
  
Mazzy's jaw almost dropped the remaining three feet to the floor. "You're kidding! He's..he's a hero! I can attest personally! He rescued me from a dungeon in the Umar Hills and together we slew the Shade Lord - and a shadow dragon!"  
  
"Yes, yes," Puritus IV waved a hand absently, "But good deeds don't make up for bad. I don't have time to go into detail, but I'm sure your companions will tell you along the way."  
  
"No, I insist on knowing what he's done before I agree to bring him to so-called justice!" Mazzy stamped her foot.  
  
"You insolent little runt!" Puritus IV scowled down at her, leaning over her to try to intimidate her, though his huge belly made it look more like she was looking up a hill than a cliff. "And you think you could be an Order knight? It is not your place to question our judgment on such matters!"  
  
Mazzy looked him in the eyes for a moment, then her eyes unfocused and the wise, faraway, almost sad look she often wore came over her face. "A knight never surrenders her own judgment," she said calmly, as if talking to herself, and turned and left the room.  
  
"Stupid runt," Puritus V scoffed.  
  
"She'll be judged accordingly," Judas chuckled.  
  
"She WAS kinda cute," Adonis mused while brushing his hair.  
  
Anomen bit his lip and remained silent.  
  
"Well, gentlemen, I guess that's it, "Puritus declared and clapped his hands, "Look for him in Beregost; failing that, ambush him at Candlekeep. Is the mission clear?"  
  
Puritus V, Judas, and Adonis all held their heavy crossbows high. "Find Onyx, and bring him to justice."  
  
"And if he resists?" Puritus IV arched and eyebrow.  
  
The three cocked their crossbows. "Neutralize him."  
  
**********  
  
12 FLAMERULE 2000 ATHKATLA - SOMEWHERE IN THE GOVERNMENT DISTRICT  
  
"You may pass," spoke the guard. The hallway was so black that Isaea Roenal could not see his face, and the entire setup creeped him out. All this, messengers, passwords, dark labyrinthine hallways - was he underground? - just so that he could see a member of the Council of Six? He was a powerful and influential noble, they should have been going out of their way to come see HIM!  
  
Isaea stepped through the door and the guard closed - and locked - it behind him. Isaea gulped and nearly sullied himself. The room was pitch black, until a small glowing orb appeared at the other end and bathed the room in a dull light. Isaea could see a figure behind the desk, holding the orb - no, wait, he was making it float above him - Dwein Seroindose was a wizard? Isaea came forward and, in the dank light, could barely make him out. Dwein wore a red cloak which hid his body and the top half of his face. The lower half of his face, too, was obscured by a bushy black beard. Isaea thought he could catch a glimpse of a piece of jewelry on the man's face - facial jewelry? perhaps a piercing - and he had his robed elbows on the table and his hands clasped together, showing off several probably- enchanted rings on his fingers.  
  
"Have a seat," Dwein said in a strange accent Isaea couldn't quite place, but felt he should have been able to. Isaea obliged. "What news?"  
  
"The de'Arnise brat has left Athkatla," Isaea whined, "With the sister and lover of that accursed Bhaalspawn-paladin."  
  
"You waste my time," Dwein sighed, "This I know. They are headed to Candlekeep."  
  
"I told you this would happen if you postponed the trial over de'Arnise Keep!"  
  
Dwein chuckled. "Why do you think I did so in the first place?"  
  
Isaea bit his lip. He didn't like Dwein's manner at all. He couldn't even see the red-cloaked politician's eyes, but he could feel the man appraising him. Coldly. Dwein obviously thought himself smarter and superior; he could just tell me his manner! It infuriated. Who in the nine hells was this Dwein Seroindose anyway? How'd he come out of nowhere and make his way onto the Council; so conveniently just as another member passed away? Why, he'd been trying for years! He deserved it, he was a Roenal! "I don't understand," Isaea managed lamely. "Now it'd be months before I have a chance to claim what's rightfully mine!"  
  
"Patience, patience," Dwein chuckled. "The outcome may not be favorable anyway, with Eroanne Nasher muddling things up for it! Blast it, what's a girl that young doing on the Council anyway? But I digress."  
  
"But why did you postpone the trial, if you knew she would skip town in the meantime?"  
  
"Perhaps you're still not seeing the entire picture. You and I have a common enemy in that de'Arnise girl. She's trying to wrestle the Keep away from you, and she's trying to wrestle a seat on the Council away from me!"  
  
"Yes yes, I understand, but why want her to skip town? You just got her out of your hair for the time being, but possibly at the cost of my Keep!"  
  
"Silence, fool!" Dwein snapped and Isaea gulped. "You'll be much more likely to get your due with my cunning plan! You see, she's going to Candlekeep, where she won't have the same entourage with her or the same Sphere to hide in!"  
  
"You mean."  
  
"Yes. I have already sent assassins north. They will intercept her either upon the road, or at Candlekeep, and dispatch her."  
  
"And the two that travel with her?"  
  
"A lower priority, but they too will be dealt with. And I look forward to it. (The avariel, you see, is the witch of a certain Rashemanian berserker whose first witch.lived longer than she should have; I'd be overjoyed to see his second cut short in due time.) And the other human; my spies overhead her saying she wants to start a thieves' guild. (Well, I had enough trouble aligning myself with the Shadow Thieves, I'll not see another upstart get in my way!) Now, nobleman, is there anything else you wish to know?"  
  
"N-no, I suppose not, this should take care of the matter.if the assassins do their job."  
  
Dwein smiled. "They will, I assure you. (And if they didn't.I would.)"  
  
Dwein Seroindose threw back his red hood and laughed, and Isaea finally realized what he was - a red wizard of Thay.  
  
**********  
  
Sir Puritus Pontius Pilatus V Human Male Lawful Good Paladin Level 18 STR 17 DEX 15 CON 15 INT 11 WIS 13 CHA 17 Bastard Swords ++ Crossbows ++ Longswords ++ Maces ++ Two-Handed Swords ++  
  
Sir Judas Iscaras Human Male Lawful Good Paladin Level 18 STR 18(81) DEX 12 CON 17 INT 8 WIS 14 INT 17 Crossbows ++ Halberds ++ Spears ++ Two-Handed Swords ++ Two-Handed Style ++  
  
Sir Adonis Narcissus Human Male Lawful Good Paladin Level 15 STR 14 DEX 18 CON 11 INT 10 WIS 13 CHA 18 Crossbows ++ Daggers ++ Shortswords ++ Two Weapon Style +++ 


	11. Candlekeep Convergence Capers

11. Candlekeep Convergence Capers  
  
12 FLAMERULE 2200 THE SEA OF SWORDS - THE UNDERSEA PALACE  
  
"How are you enjoying your stay, Mr. Bond?"  
  
"Please - Jarek. Quite nice, actually, Jeweler. Although I might suggest to your chef that the caviar is overemphasized. It's only a garnish, really, not a side."  
  
"My apologies, Jarek."  
  
The Jeweler returned to stroking his cat with one hand and sipping his wine with the other, sitting back in his large shark-leather chair, behind which a pane of enchanted glass kept the actual sharks of the ocean at bay. Across the large marble table and the food lavishly laid upon it, Jarek Bond casually but expertly cut his shark steak into small, polite bites. The captive of three nights was dressed in understated black-tie noble's attire, and not physically restrained in any direct manner, although a number of golems stood motionless far behind him against a wall of the large room. In the chair next to the swashbuckler's, Bucki Ryder picked lazily at her food, clad in a glamorous and revealing black evening gown and a generous but tasteful array of jewelry.  
  
"You know what I like about you, Jarek?" the Jeweler gestured with his wine goblet as he spoke, "You've an appreciation for the finer things in life, particularly in those extra measures a worthy adversary goes through to be sportsmanlike and generous. So hard to come by in a do- gooder these days. Those proselytizing paladins, always denouncing wealth, power, and promiscuity. And the good monks - their vows of poverty and celibacy are even more extreme! It's almost comical, and yet they have no sense of humor at all! And those rangers, a bit less stiff, but still shunning the finer things that civilization has to offer. Why, those woodsmen are almost barbarians."  
  
"They are a bit rough around the edges, aren't they?" Jarek nodded while raising his goblet to the Jeweler and with his left hand reaching under the table to stroke Bucki's leg through the split in her dress. "You certainly seem to have quite an eye for life's little luxuries. The architecture here - so clean, spacious, magically well-lit, and such a view - " he gestured to the transparent walls through which the sea was visible " - impeccable. The food, aside from my few pointers, is five-star. The women, absolutely dazzling." He squeezed Bucki's thigh and then moved his hand further up while the assassin bit her lip and smiled politely. "And the crew here - " he gestured back with his wine goblet to the golems behind him, causing the Jeweler to chuckle, "Competent and loyal. But you seem to have a particular taste, Jeweler, for the small things." To Bucki's visible dismay, Jarek pulled his hand out of her skirt and held up her hand in his, showing off her many jeweled rings, "Like say, gems and jewelry." Jarek then gestured again toward the Jeweler, with a subtle but unmistakable downward motion pointing toward the Jeweler's collar.  
  
"Ah yes," the Jeweler smiled indulgently and moved his cat-stroking hand to his necklace. The chain was simple platinum, but the pendant was of a fiery-glowing red gem. "I've always been so fond of jewels. The dancing colors, the translucence and the light, the smooth edges, the hardness. I cherish them all - Diamonds, rogue stones, star sapphires, pearls, moonstones, and the rest. I do so love them."  
  
Jarek smirked. "I don't suppose you'd also have an interest in swords?"  
  
"But of course, Jarek," the Jeweler eyed his adversary suspiciously. "I'm a collector of many things."  
  
"Like, say, slaves?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Tsk, tsk, I can't approve of your tastes categorically."  
  
"It's no mere hobby, Jarek, it's the way of things." The Jeweler rose from his seat, and walked over to two large fish tanks at the edge of the long table, each of which contained a very mean-looking dragonfish. The Jeweler scooped one of them out with a gloved hand, and then dropped the writhing, gnashing creature in the other tank. The two dragonfish immediately zoomed for one another. Their long fins and tails lashed about, and they bit at one another with small but razor-sharp teeth, and soon the tank because murky and then opaque with the billowing clouds of blood. The Jeweler looked on in amusement, and after a few minutes the underwater fog of blood cleared. One dragonfish was happily munching upon the other, which was torn apart and dead.  
  
"So you see," the Jeweler proclaimed while applauding the victor, "Chaos and violence are simply the natural order." He gestured to the large window- walls of the room, where a shark was swallowing a smaller fish. "It is only man that has tried to introduce ludicrous concepts like 'morality' and 'law'; I'm merely doing what would be expected of any living being."  
  
"You're a monster, Jeweler," Jarek declared calmly between sips of his wine.  
  
Still standing by the fish tanks, the Jeweler growled under his breath, an inhumanly deep growl, and clenched his gloved fist so hard he shattered his goblet. "Careful, Harper 007," he bellowed at least an octave below normal human range, "You would not wish to prove yourself correct."  
  
**********  
  
12 FLAMERULE 2300 ATHKATLA - THE ROENAL ESTATE  
  
"She will be mine. Oh yes, she will be mine."  
  
Isaea Roenal paced nervously. Dwein Seroindose, apparently a Thayvian Red Wizard masquerading as a member of the Council of Six, was going to kill Nalia de'Arnise! Correction - HIS Nalia de'Arnise! Oh, he wanted de'Arnise Keep and its lands, to be sure, and he would hate to see her on the Council of Six herself. She was somehow brought under his control. He wanted her so he could get her lands. And he simply wanted her. In the basest of ways. He had tried to force her hand in marriage, but been apprehended by her ruffian friends, and since those same had sullied his reputation with admittedly true evidence of his corruption, things looked grimmer than ever. It's not really corruption, he told himself. I merely hadn't gotten the law in line with my practices! His lawyers, some of the best in Amn, had been hard at work absolving him of technical legal liability for his crimes, but his reputation among the nobles and the government - who were practically the same - still suffered. His lawyers had also been busy figuring out how to bring Nalia de'Arnise under his control - they'd tried insanity, and it'd almost worked that once, and it still seemed like a plausible avenue. She had done more outlandish things since that last Bhaalspawn-interrupted fiasco, and he had more evidence against her. If she was found unfit to care for herself, a marriage would prove the perfect solution, and put her assets - every kind - under his legal control.  
  
But that was the problem. Dwein had sent assassins to kill her. And to desecrate and destroy the body. Not kidnap her again. His lawyers had also been hard at work figuring out how he could acquire her material assets in that case, but the prospects there looked slim, as they had never been technically married yet. And moreover there was the matter of her personal assets, which he wanted badly. No matter how many times he visited the back rooms of the Copper Coronet and partook in the best it had to offer, no matter how many courtesans he sneaked in and out of his estate, that burning greed for her would not go away. He had to have her, Dwein or no.  
  
A knock was heard on Isaea's door. "It's THEM," the butler stated.  
  
"Well let them in, you great oaf!" Isaea called, trying to sound authoritative, but his voice cracked.  
  
The door opened and three very slight, perhaps elven, figures wearing form-fitting head-to-toe leather, strode in. Isaea tried to look haughty as he appraised them, but in truth he was shaking. "Y-you're the best the Shadow Thieves have to offer, eh? I'm not impressed."  
  
"You'll be impressed with the results," the middle one hissed, "So long as we're impressed with the payment."  
  
Isaea tossed him a bulging gem bag. His pitiful throw fell far short, but the left thief's arm suddenly lashed out like a snake, and a web of rope flew from his wrist, ensnared the bag, and brought it snapping back into his palm. This figure opened and inspected it all with that one hand, then nodded and spoke in a raspy voice. "This had better be worth a hundred grand at market prices, or we'll come back.to get the rest." Isaea gulped. "With any outcome, we keep this one. If we return successfully, have the same again. If you can't pay the rest.we'll get our money's worth out of the princess some other way, I'm sure." The figure's mouth, like the others, was covered by a mask, but Isaea could tell he was grinning broadly underneath.  
  
Isaea's face grew red and when he tried to speak, and only gibberish came out. Finally he swallowed and managed to speak. "I c-can pay. J-just make sure you get her unharmed and untouched. There's another group with an eight hour lead on you seeking to kill her, so you'd better get to Candlekeep first. And she herself an archmage now, and may still be with friends; don't underestimate her."  
  
"Don't worry," the left thief rasped, "I, the Bounty Hunter, will set a harmless but flawless trap for her."  
  
"And," the middle thief hissed, "I, the Assassin, will put her to sleep with a harmless but flawless drought."  
  
"And," the right thief croaked, "I, the Swashbuckler, will apprehend any that try to interfere with my harmful and flawless technique."  
  
"S-see that you do," Isaea nodded, "And be quick about it."  
  
"But of course," the Assassin hissed, "Our time is valuable. And on that note." the three thieves almost disappeared from Isaea's sight and moved as silent and shadowy figures out of the room.  
  
Isaea walked over to one of his dressers to change into unwet pants.  
  
**********  
  
13 FLAMERULE 0800 THE COAST WAY - NORTH OF THE CLOUDPEAKS  
  
The four knights of the Order had stopped en route to Beregost and Candlekeep to rest out of sight of the Coast Way road next to a stream in a fairly secluded valley. They had ridden all through the night, as the Cloudpeaks pass was a treacherous place to camp at night, with all manner of goblins and thieves liable to pour out of caves or down from peaks. In their daytime campsite, Adonis Narcissus was leaning over the bank of the stream and admiring himself while styling his hair, but Judas, Puritus, and Anomen sat around in a circle, eating their rations cold.  
  
"Your eyes flinch, Sir Delryn. Why?" Puritus demanded.  
  
Anomen sighed, not wanting to answer. "I have a doubt."  
  
"This is a perfect campsite; we already went over it."  
  
Anomen could have let it rest at that, but he wouldn't have felt quite honest letting the man deceive himself. "No.about our assignment."  
  
"Do you really think he'll be so foolish as to resist arrest by four members of the Order?" Puritus scoffed.  
  
Anomen thought carefully. "We should give him the chance to come voluntarily before declaring it an arrest. I'm sure he'd resist arrest, actually. I don't even know why we're making this trip; he'd have come back to Athkatla soon enough anyway."  
  
Judas frowned pensively. "Justice must be swift!"  
  
Anomen glanced up tall, rugged Tyrran. With his week's stubble, long, greasy black hair and jutting jaw and forehead, he looked like a barbarian save for his polished full plate armor. "Are you sure this is justice?" the Helmite priest asked meekly.  
  
"How dare you question the judgment of the Order!" Puritus scowled. "You yourself have reported his crimes."  
  
"Problem with this Onyx is," Judas mused in a gravelly voice, "He's taken justice into his own hands."  
  
"Yes," Puritus smiled, "Keldorn should have known than to put him on a mission where the avenging of his betrothed was at stake. It's clouded his judgment."  
  
Judas nodded. "Sounds like the Bhaal-tainted murder-knight enjoys killing. He's crossed the thin red line between justice and revenge."  
  
Anomen bit his lip. "I think the mistake people make is, it's not that Onyx enjoys killing - he's just good at it."  
  
**********  
  
13 FLAMERULE 1100 EAST OF CANDLEKEEP  
  
"Oh WOW! This countryside is so beautiful! I've never seen anything like it. When I was with the c-circus we went all over Faerun and even Calimshan, but we never really got to see things. And now.WOW!"  
  
"Hey, it's cuz ya've never been this far north! The plants and animals change, cuz it's colder and stuff. Boy, I sure remember Jaheira lecturing me on all that stuff a bunch. My brother and I used to play in fields like this one all the time. Candlekeep was pretty stuffy, y'know. Well, I enjoyed reading books, but Onyx never really did. If it wasn't sports in the courtyards within the walls, it was walks and exploration and adventures outside 'em."  
  
"I envy the freedom.being the daughter of nobles, I was constantly under watch from servants and guards, and I pretty much had to sneak out whenever I wanted to be outside our keep."  
  
The three mage maidens rode at a casual pace upon their ponies, their blonde, brown, and pink locks of hair tied with eclectic assortments of barrettes and hair-ties but blowing in the high coastal winds nonetheless. For they were approaching Candlekeep, having turned off the Coast Way onto the westward road which would lead them there. The walls of the library- fortress-town were almost in sight, and the smell of salt was in the air.  
  
"Well," Imoen spoke again to her companions, "I guess Onyx and I must have had a pretty free upbringing compared to either of you, but life in Candlekeep is pretty strict, as I'm sure you'll see. I mean, after all, it is a big library, and you know how those are."  
  
"Actually I've.never even been to a library," Aerie sighed, "There's so much I've never experienced.well, " Aerie giggled and blushed, "I guess I've experienced a lot of new things the past few months.but before that.I guess a few months can't really make up for an entire childhood, can they?"  
  
"Aw, cheer up," Imoen smiled, "You've got a long life ahead of ya, Aerie." Imoen's perkiness was marred as she spoke the words 'long life,' for it occurred to her that she would not have nearly as long a life as her elven friend. Her future sister-in-law would outlive her and their brother/lover by centuries, would she not? Mortality had almost never occurred to Imoen before, as it does not occur to a child, but now that the Bhaalspawn War was over and she wasn't constantly fighting for her life and could take a more long-term outlook, these things had been occurring to her with increasing frequency.  
  
"You know, Aerie," Nalia added, "I believe you've already seen more than most people will a lifetime. Most people have hard, impoverished lives.they may never leave the village where they were born, and know nothing but pushing the same plow across the same field or sweeping the same floor with the same broom every day of their poor lives."  
  
Aerie turned the corners of her mouth down and stated, "Well, they should work their way out of poverty instead of getting rich girls to pity them."  
  
"You couldn't work your own way out of destitution," Nalia scoffed back haughtily, "Onyx had to come and rescue you! How can you want to deny others the same chance."  
  
"Firstly, I wasn't just poor, I was a SLAVE. Secondly, it was Quayle who bought me out of slavery, Onyx just rescued me from that nasty illusionist Kalah," Aerie scowled, her small face twisting up, "Not that you would really understand the difference, with your perfect little princess childhood!" She stuck her tongue out at Nalia, who returned the favor.  
  
"Aw, c'mon girls," Imoen sighed, "I thought being away from Onyx and Jaheira would keep the arguments and politics at bay," Imoen then winced and mentally put her foot in her mouth when Aerie's face turned red. Mentioning those two in the same sentence was something she tried to avoid doing in the avariel's presence, but she'd slipped. Aerie sad nothing, and merely looked down at her own saddle and scowled, and Nalia looked the other way and petted her pony and admired the scenery, then pulled out her letter from Valygar and reread it (for about the twenty-seventh time that day). While the three shared an awkward silence, Imoen looked at the road ahead, which she recognized well. Old memories came flooding back. Was that the milestone where they'd met Montaron and Xzar long ago? Was that the grove where Gorion had.been struck down..  
  
"We're here!" Aerie cried with glee as they came up to the gates. Imoen withdrew from her robes a tome ("Simulacra and Simulation") and handed it to the guard and the three were allowed entry. They left their ponies in the stable within the town and head for the Candlekeep Inn.  
  
"Heya, Puffguts!" Imoen jumped for joy as they entered the main room and she saw her foster father for the first time in over a year. She hopped right over the counter and gave the portly but kindly innkeeper a big hug.  
  
"My, my kiddo, you've grown! But not as much as me, I'm afraid!" he laughed and patted his belly. "Pink hair? Heh heh, I shoulda see it comin'. And the mages of a robe? My my. You always were a bright one, my girl, I knew that you'd go far. But I never expected.well, every bard in town has been singing about your adventurers! First it was solving the iron shortage, then keeping that monster in the Iron Throne from starting a war, then saving the elves from a mad wizard, and we've just these past few days started hearing the tales about this so-called 'Bhaalspawn War'! My My!"  
  
Imoen spent the better part of an hour telling her adopted father recent news and personal anecdotes of their adventures while Aerie and Nalia took their stuff up to their room, the nicest the Inn had to offer.  
  
"I'm sorry about earlier, Nal," Aerie sighed to her companion, breaking the awkward silence as they finished unpacking. "You know I love you like a sister."  
  
"Likewise. It's fine," Nalia smiled. "I'm glad we talk about stuff."  
  
"I was mean though," Aerie bit her lip. "It's just.it was so horrible.I spent my time in captivity daydreaming, and a lot of it was about having the sort of childhood you were just given on a silver platter. I tell myself I shouldn't envy you, just like I tell you the poor shouldn't envy the rich, and there's no reason I should get mad at you personally for it.I'm sorry!"  
  
The avariel began to sob into her robes and Nalia hugged her. "It's okay.everything's okay now. You're free, and now we're finally safe too! This is going to be a start of a wonderful and relaxing vacation. And then Onyx and Valygar and Minsc and the rest are going to meet us here and everything will be just fine."  
  
Aerie sniffed her tears back. "Yes.it's almost too good to be true. That's sort of what worries me, you know? They say if something seems to good to be true, it usually is. And that's what happened the first time. When I was a child with my wings, in my innocent bliss, it turned out to be too good to be true. And so now, I'm so worried that something bad will happen. Like what if Onyx never comes back?"  
  
Nalia kept hugging her friend but shrugged. "You're simply better off not thinking about it, because right now there's nothing you can do. That's just always a risk with the kind of lifestyle we lead."  
  
Aerie's face wrinkled up and she began to cry again, "Maybe it's the wrong lifestyle. Ooh, I never should have let him go! He said we'd take a break after we were done with the Bhaalspawn War, and then look what happens! Or we should have gone with him! Then we'd be together, and his party would be a lot more powerful with us!"  
  
"Perhaps we should have," Nalia sighed, and she could think of a few more reasons still. "But in the meantime, we should just enjoy ourselves."  
  
"Y-yes, I'll try to be more optimistic, I guess."  
  
The two went back downstairs to find Imoen explaining to 'Puffguts' about how drow in Ust Natha were evil, fierce, magic resistant, and sticks- in-the-mud to boot. She gave the innkeeper a hug as they left.  
  
Imoen led them around the keep, giving her friends a tour and taking herself for a trip down memory lane.  
  
"Here's the courtyard where we used to play football or do whatever at recess."  
  
"See those footholes in the wall? I used to climb up or down it here when I was sneaking around."  
  
"There's the barracks. Onyx and Grom - his half-orc friend - and some of the others used to hang out there and Jondalar and the other men-at-arms would show them basic sword and bow techniques. The guards had plenty of free time around here back in the day."  
  
Aerie smiled as she noticed a sleeping, snoring guard. ".and thanks to your and Onyx's efforts solving the iron shortage, looks like they do again!"  
  
"There's the haystacks, and Nessie the cow!" the three petted the cow. "Behind these haystacks is where Onyx and Phyldia used to.eh, nevermind."  
  
"Here's the small temple - well, shrine really - of Oghma, goddess of learning, naturally. Onyx was never really fond of books, but I always liked 'em pretty well. In this pool here - oh hey! Is that you, Phyldia? Heya, it's me, Imoen!"  
  
The old friend of Imoen's, clutching a book as usual but now dressed in priestly robes rather than a village girl's dress, came out of the small indoor chapel of the temple of Oghma. She dropped the book when she noticed Imoen, and the two ran up to each other and hugged. "Wow Imoen, it's you," Phyldia smiled in a happy but breathy, almost tired voice. "I never dreamed I'd see you again. I've heard all your adventures, but it's nice to see you for myself in one piece! Is that a mage robe? Wow."  
  
Imoen looked back at her old friend's attire and the emblems adorning it. "And you, a cleric of Oghma now?" Phyldia nodded. "I shoulda guessed. Looks like you've really found your calling."  
  
Phyldia smiled contentedly. "Yeah. It's quiet, but I like it that way.I guess. Where's Onyx?" she asked while appraising Nalia and Aerie.  
  
"Oh, he's still adventuring at the moment, but he'll be back here pretty soon I think," Imoen grinned.  
  
Phlydia grinned wider and became visibly giddy, dropping her book again just as she'd picked it up. "Wow! It's been.over a year! That'd be great!" she smiled dreamily.  
  
"Yep!" Imoen smiled, and bit her lip. "Oh, I should introduce my new friends. This is, uh, Nalia de'Arnise, of the de'Arnises of Amn."  
  
Phyldia smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I thought I recognized the crest on the ring." Nalia nearly blushed and withdrew her hand into her robe.  
  
"And," Imoen continued. "This is Aerie."  
  
Phyldia appraised the elf. "You look like an avariel," she observed studiously, "But that robe doesn't look unusually roomy."  
  
Aerie hung her head. "It's not," the sighed, and Phyldia nodded with understanding.  
  
Phyldia looked at the two again. "Well, as I'm sure everyone's been telling you, we've heard about you and your adventures. You'd be surprised at how much detail the bards keep in those scattered heads of theirs. Lady de'Arnise, quite the sneak and archmage, you were kidnapped by that corrupt Roenal heir weren't you?" Nalia's scowl answered the question. "And Aerie, also a capable mage and a cleric of avariel and gnomish deities alike, glad you're back from vampirism," the avariel scowled at her, for the regarded invasion of privacy as well as for other reasons, "And you." Phlydia's face grew long and distant, "Were betrothed of Onyx, yes?"  
  
Aerie smiled proudly. "Yes, I am."  
  
"Oh." Phyldia said simply at bit her lip. After an awkward moment of silence she added, "Congratulation."  
  
"Thank you," the avariel cleric said curtly.  
  
"You said you are, not were?" the human cleric inquired.  
  
"Of course!!" the priestess of Aerdrie Faenya snapped and clenched her small fists.  
  
"That's funny," the priestess of Oghma frowned, "Because there was this bard singing at the Inn yesterday evening, you see, and.." 


	12. A Boy And His Whinepigeon

12. A Boy And His Whinepigeon  
  
13 FLAMERULE 1300 OUTSIDE THE GNOLL STRONGHOLD  
  
On the third day after the night of their battle under the big top, the party which had vanquished the Chaos Circus, sans Anomen Delryn but joined by Dawn Raybringer and Buffy the Undead Hunter, finally journeyed within sight of the old gnoll stronghold - though whether gnolls or anyone had all now inhabited this old, abandoned fortress remained to be seen; as the stronghold had been stormed the year before by this same party, sans Valygar Corthala, Arra Flyte, Dawn, and Buffy, but joined by Imoen, Garrick (who at this exact moment was trekking to Rasheman with his new wife, to begin a new life which would fill many, many entertaining stanzas of songs in years to come; but which unfortunately does not enter into this particular tale), Khalid (may his soul rest in peace), and Branwen (may the halls of Valhalla thunder with sound of her hammer).  
  
The night after staying at the temple of Lathander with the newly freed slaves, this current party had been occupied all the next day helping mayor Keldath Ormlyr, and some of his Lathanderian clergy, heal, feed, and organize them and arrange and assure their transportation to their various homelands. Not that the recently released elves were at all incompetent individuals, but they were at the moment penniless and stranded, and many did not even speak common or know where they were geographically, and some had been left crippled, diseased, or traumatized by their bondage.  
  
This was by no means an inexpensive undertaking, and more than good intentions was required, but a deal had been worked out. Onyx had had no trouble convincing Keldath, who had previously commissioned the paladin on several adventures such as the slaying of the Cyrcist cleric Bassillus and the aforementioned wyvern hunt, that the leftovers of the circus (namely, the entire circus, sans a living crew) were technically the adventuring spoils of his party; but that he would happily donate them to the temple on the condition that they, or proceeds from their sale, be put first towards the aforementioned endeavor. Fortunately, this required no immediate auction, as the assets of the circus were by nature themselves suitable for the task. The crew of the circus had apparently been larger than the slave population, and thus the caravans which had quartered the crew, and the stores which had fed them, would be suitable for feeding and returning the former slaves. A good thing, as the food intended for the slaves was largely spoiled, and partially responsible for the unhealthy state of some of them, and the caravans which had quartered the slaves were filthy, and unfurnished except for cages. The horses of the caravan, in addition, had been in bad shape and required healing from the clerics before they were suitable for their various return journeys.  
  
Over the course of the few days before they departed, leaders emerged among the various subraces of elves and they began to organize themselves. In particular, some among them turned out to be rangers, and proved knowledgeable in the local geography and were also able to soothe the horses into pulling the caravans they had understandably come to loathe, for the prospect of carrots rather than the fear of whips. Nonetheless, for the sharing of news with the elven clans if nothing else, Keldath sent along with each group various members of the government and clergy (as head of both in Beregost, he tended to blur the distinction, a fact which despite his good nature would in future years become a source of controversy, but that, though interesting and of gravity, is another tale) to travel with them to their various locations (or as far as someone who could not breath underwater, fly up unscaleable mountains, or dared not jump through interplanar portals, could go) and return.  
  
As for the rest of the circus's assets, what could be sold off to the town before the slaves left was sold In fact, local smithy Conlan Thunderhammer would end up more overstocked with weapons and armor and such than he ever had been before; it was said the illiquidity of the sheer volume of the circus's equipment caused prices to plummet. Conlan, a good businessman, had anticipated this and demanded low prices from the church for such a large volume, and rightfully so. But it is said that he ended up making quite a profit when tales of the party's adventure spread over the next few months and spawning a rash of eager new adventuring groups, driving the prices back up and clearing the stock. The proceeds from these sales, and the assets that couldn't be sold in time (mostly fine Calimshani pillows and blankets, and wine and other drinks) were divided among the captive elves. After all, Onyx had suggested to Keldath, who more deserved the circus's final profits than those who had been forced to work for it wagelessly until now? The pillows and blankets proved to provide a very comfortable return trip for the elves, and the beer, wine, and liquor, it is said, was largely consumed by them on the return trips as they reveled in their new freedom. In fact, jesters would later joke to crowed taverns during their stand-up routines that during these days a blind and deaf ranger could have tracked their paths from Beregost to exotic locations just by following the stench of elven puke.  
  
But this tale has gotten ahead of itself, for most of this had not yet happened. It was only their second day since leaving Beregost, and the party had come to a bridge, one which had been crossed the year before, across which the gnoll stronghold stood surrounded by a large natural moat, a river that flowed down from the mountains the stronghold backed up against and then flowed around in front of the stronghold and then out to the sea.  
  
"Hey Boo and Jaheira and Onyx, do you remember the nasty ogres that said we were crossing their bridge?" Minsc declared as memories flooded into his damaged brain.  
  
"Definitely, Minsc," Onyx chuckled at the memory. "I always remembered that incident, because it was the first time I fought a monster to cross a bridge - just like in the stories - except it was two ogres! In the stories, it's always trolls guarding the bridge - you know, under the bridge, 'who's that crossin 'me bridge?' while the heroic goat walks above it to where the grass is supposedly greener on the other side..."  
  
Inexplicably, after spouting this idiom the cavalier found his eyes flick up to Jaheira. He noticed the druid was looking down at her hands. He realized what she was thinking about - the old gauntlets of dexterity they had found on one of the dead ogres. A sad look came across Jaheira's face, and Onyx remembered they had lost them when Irenicus had captured them. A tear rolled down Jaheira's cheek. That wasn't all Irenicus had taken from her, was it though?  
  
Then Jaheira wiggled her fingers deftly. Onyx remembered how she'd been more coordinated after the ordeal, almost as if the mad wizard had simply fused the gauntlets' power into her hands. Maybe it was just from wearing them so long? No, they didn't work like that. Somehow, what had been lost in the ordeal had been replaced.   
  
Had it, though?  
  
  
  
Jaheira clenched her fist and looked up to meet Onyx's gaze, who sheepishly looked away, but the half-elf's eyes still burned in his mind, greener than he'd ever seen them before. And the facial expression had been strange, as the look of someone who realizes they have been spied upon but then enjoys it. He shook his head out. Why had he been staring at her and second-guessing her thoughts just now, it's not like he could hear them.  
  
SPLASH!  
  
Cold water hit him in the face. He opened his eyes to find Minsc sheepishly holding his water pouch. Buffy and Dawn were giggling hysterically, Arra was laughing under her breath, and even Valygar was snickering. "Sorry Onyx! Minsc squeezed it a little too hard in his mighty haste to drink and it splashed his good friend in the face!" the ranger announced.  
  
"Actually, it was refreshing," Onyx chuckled back, and realized his own thirst and took a drink from his own pouch. Before he could wipe the water from his face, Dawn had withdrawn a rose-hued handkerchief and done it for him. As she leaned in to polish off his chin, her eyes flicked aside, and the cavalier's followed them to the river running beneath the bridge, and to the bank.  
  
There were no trolls under the bridge this time either, but the bank on their side was quite grassy with scattered sitting rocks along it. Onyx and Dawn's gazes moved back to each other, as this triggered a deja vu from just the same morning.  
  
Still a few hours from the stronghold, the party had camped the previous night near a river that had also been crossed during the expedition to rescue Dynaheir the year before. Onyx had woken fairly early, just in time to see the sunrise in fact. He sat in breeches on a rock on the east bank of the river; whose banks were soft and grassy and dotted with occasional trees and large rocks, and visited by thirsty deer. The early sunlight behind him reflecting off the slow-moving water was perfect for catching his reflection clearly and thus for shaving. Which he did by putting to his own throat the vorpal axe that had beheaded dozens of his foes. Vorpal edges really were the best way to get a clean shave though, especially when no creams were available.   
  
His reflection began to blur as ripples spread across it. Stupid duck or something, Onyx fumed. Maybe I'll have a duck omelet for breakfast, he thought as he watched his axeblade gleam in the morning sun. He looked up to find the foul fowl which had foiled his facial foliation fixing, but instead saw a golden-tan forehead and the top of a blonde mass of hair, which were slowly beginning to rise out of the water. Jaheira up so early? Looked sort of like her with the braids out. He looked to the sides of the head, expecting to see the points of ears rise out of the water next and then two green eyees, but the long wet hair hung around the head, covering the tops of the ears and masking most of the face. The nose and them mouth and chin, obscured by wet, clinging hair, emerged from the water, then the neck began to lengthen above its rippling circles, and quickly grew wider as it bloomed to the left and right into muscular and pretty collar and shoulders, and then also blossomed forward into...  
  
Look away, you fool! He'd frozen in the sheer oddity of the moment, but his higher functions had finally kicked in.  
  
"Be you siren or succubus, though I might seem alarmed, I'm immune to being charmed and happen to be armed, return from whence you came and you'll not be harmed!" he accidentally rhymed with his eyes shut. "Otherwise, my sincere apologies!" He never froze up in fear, but hesitating with curiosity could cost the edge in an ambush, and make for a faux pas in an unexpected friendly encounter.  
  
"Well, I must say I'm most flattered by your suspicions of my identity," the warm, musical voice of Dawn Raybringer laughed from above him - Onyx deduced she must thus be standing almost entirely out of the water. "But I'm a mere human female, I'm afraid."  
  
"Oh, Dawn, it's you, thank - er, sorry, I was just shaving here with my, uh, vorpal axe, yeah..." he winced.  
  
"I know," she laughed. "I thought I'd take a break from my swim and join you, if you don't mind. Actually, maybe you could join me instead since you look done - wow, good shave by the way, I'd ask to borrow that axe for my legs if my clerical ethos permitted it - hmmm, perhaps you'd do it for me?"  
  
"Uh, if you really need me to, but isn't it okay as long as you don't draw blood?" Onyx stammered with his eyes shut.  
  
"Of course, I'm just teasing! I couldn't resist! But if you're willing..." she trailed off in a musical tease.  
  
"I...would rather not, with my...you know..."  
  
"Other commitments?"  
  
"Yes," he said flatly.  
  
"You're quite devoted to her, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"It's quite impressive...and enviable, actually. By the way, you really don't have to keep your eyes scrunched like that."  
  
"It's...polite. To you and to her."  
  
"Well, your intentions are honorable, but isn't it a little...silly and contrived and artificial? It's merely my natural form."  
  
"Yes, I suppose the manner is a tad arbitrary," Onyx admitted buy kept his eyes shut.  
  
"It's not like this doesn't happen regularly on your travels, with the enchanting water-creatures you mentioned popping up to combat you from time to time. And don't forget the creed of Lathander. And I *know* you know what part I'm referring to," Dawn giggled.  
  
"Yeah, yeah - 'take in works of beauty whenever possible.' Very modest of you, Dawn," Onyx gave a joking scold.  
  
"Hey, I'm proud of me!"  
  
"And so you should be."  
  
"That's more like it. And I'm glad you do think me beautiful."  
  
Onyx smacked his forehead. Well hadn't he just walked right into that one.  
  
"Not it wasn't already obvious," she teased.  
  
The cavalier smacked his forehead again.  
  
"So take me in."  
  
Onyx sighed in defeat, "Fine, fine, I am being prudish I guess," and opened his eyes.  
  
Wow.  
  
"I'm glad you aren't trying to hide the 'wow' face. I think that's good. You have nice teeth by the way, even the backsides of the bottom ones."  
  
Onyx snapped his jaw shut and smacked his forehead yet again. "No, I wasn't even trying, but I should have been."  
  
"In some company, I guess. When in Amn, as they say. But you know how I personally feel. Pretty much the same stuff I preach."  
  
Onyx nodded. "It makes sense. I guess it's hard to shake some things you were raised with."  
  
Dawn pulled her wet hair back, tying it in a loose ponytail, and Onyx caught himself watching her as she moved. Not the arms though.  
  
Dawn noticed and smiled. "I'm glad you like. It feels like having someone admire a work of art you made."  
  
"You know, you have the body of a fighter."  
  
"Yes, I do," she smiled and put extraneous movements into her hair tying, letting her smooth muscles ripple and watching it herself with a pleased smile. "And I can act like one when need be, as you may see soon enough. I've a sister who's a thief but even stronger." After finishing the ponytail, she noticed Onyx looking away innocently and added, "You're trying to look away, even though you don't really want to. And you're blushing. It's nearly invisible under your tan, but I can tell. I sense you're wondering about my behavior. Tell me, young cavalier, I'm curious as to why you think I've doing this, what you think of it, and how you decided."  
  
"Well, the 'obvious' answer to the first is that you're interested in me, but that's a rather narcissistic assumption. The obvious answer to the second is to disapproval of it as amoral behavior, but that is a rather puritanical view. The 'obvious answer' to the third is that my other answers are what is easily inferred from simple social custom, but that would be rather rigidly judgmental."  
  
Dawn laughed warmly and clapped her hand. "Very eloquent, and very wise, especially for a paladin of your age. The tempered use of pride, judgment, and morality are all important aspects of the Lathanderian ethos. But I bring this up not merely to idly educate you, but because of a foreboding vision that has been forming in my mind."  
  
"Last night I dreamt of you, Onyx. I saw a wall of fire, and you came running out, followed by three knights. They were chasing you. They were emblazoned with tabards: one with a looking glass, one with a crushing hammer, and the third with a squeezing gauntlet. I awoke in a sweat. I was afraid for you, Onyx, but I told myself it was just a dream."  
  
"As I prayed at sunrise this morning, the dream plagued me still, and I had a vision. It appeared to me within a rosy mist, and I believe it was the Morninglord giving me his guidance, and I believe he meant me to give it to you. We will soon face the Saint and the Jeweler, but you have more adversaries. I saw them within you. They are the plagues of the righteous, they are the stupidity of the lawful, they have confused other paladins, and they were gnawing at you. Three of them. The first is narcissism. Pride. When wielded properly, it drives you to look and act your best, and not to do erroneous things lest they embarrass you. When you let it wield you, you become egotistical and will put yourself above your cause, or become vain and neglect your duties while you admire yourself. The second is judgmentalism; rashness. When wielding properly, it allows you to see right and wrong and make quick, logical decisions. When you let it wield you, your better judgment is replaced by hasty decisions based on rationalization, arbitrariness, and simplistic clichés. The third is puritanism, sanctimoniousness. When wielded properly, it allows you to recognize what is evil and what is not. When you left it wield you, your view becomes too narrowminded and you will be apt to vilify those living outside your needlessly strict morals."  
  
Onyx had been looking up at Dawn as she preached, but then the cleric kneeled on both knees and clasped one of his hands with hers, and her voice and face took on a more worried, almost terrified, air.  
  
"As good, brave, and just as you are, Onyx, these faults nag at your human heels. I know that you have tended to each in the past, and made mistakes as we all do," Onyx blinked thrice and swore he could hear Xzar laughing inside his skull, "But that you have been noble and wise enough to realize and admit it to yourself later. But they linger still, and this vision told me that, left undefeated and growing in power, these inner foes had spawned physical forms - the three knights of my dream. And that they rode even now across the material world, and seek you. We will confront the Saint and the Jeweler and their minions, but sooner or later these three will find you, and you will have to defeat them, though whether that means capturing, killing, or converting them I know not; or be defeated by them - and whether that would mean being slain or imprisoned, I also have seen not."  
  
"Within and without, I will defeat them."  
  
"I worry, but I believe you shall." Dawn looked him in the eyes as she stood tall again, but the cavalier's gaze soon flicked down over her body before he averted it. "Now, I'm curious about you as well. You seem truly devoted to this Aerie, even though you have been given ample," she hung on the word as she put her hands on her hips, "Opportunities to have other feelings. Oh sure, thoughts occur to you," she glanced down at her own body, then looked up the hill to where the rest of the party was encamped, "But I sense your heart, and I know your actions, and they remain yet as pure as your environment is...colorful." She looked back over her shoulder to the other grassy bank of the river, which Onyx noticed was quite green. "I have heard the tavern tales of course, but I have never met her."  
  
In response to her obvious but unasked question, Onyx cleared her throat. "Where do I begin? I awoke in Joneleth Irenicus's dungeon, escaped with my remaining friends, one of which, the closest and dearest, was then captured by the damned Cowled Wizards - I'm happy Jon and I ended up trashing their precious Spellhold, but that's another story - saved a circus from yet another wizard foe, a crazy little illusionist - at that point, I was cursing magic so bad I'd have made our friend Valygar seem like the chairman of the Mystra Fan Club - and met her all in one day."  
  
"Wow."  
  
"I slept like a stone that night, let me tell you."  
  
"I thought you found her on the way to whacking the illusionist?"  
  
"My mistake, yes we did. The wacky gnome had put her under an illusion that made her look like an ogre. The first thing I noticed was the voice - wow. I remember Yoshimo laughing his head off at this ogre with this little elven girl's voice, and asking the monster if it was wearing a girdle of femininity and had it strapped really tight between his thighs instead of over them," Onyx explained as Dawn laughed, "And I'm sure I would have been cracking up too if I hadn't just been enchanted by the voice. Very musical, like yours actually..."  
  
"Thanks," Dawn smiled and deliberately sighed a major scale.  
  
"...But much higher pitched, of course. And then, when we managed to dispel the illusion in short order, and I saw her..."  
  
"...She could see that you had nice teeth, even the backs of the bottom ones?"  
  
"I'm afraid so. And I doubt it was lost on Yoshimo or Jaheira."  
  
"So it was love at first sight - or, ah, sound?"  
  
"Yes, it was. Simple as that. She eventually admitted she'd felt the same way. I cringe to think what the other party members must have been thinking while we were just staring at each other before being snapped out of it (by a goblin on a pogo-stick, of all things) and making introductions and taking her along."  
  
"Raw physical magnetism, then?" Dawn's voice had no hint of disapproval.  
  
"Oh, to be sure, but not just. Firstly, I think people underestimate the importance of sight - not in their own preferences and decision, of course, but in what they proselytize to others - there's a lot that can be learned about personality within the face. Something about how the eyes move and the mouth is held."  
  
"Yes, I don't know how to explain it either, but there's more to it than has yet been put into words."  
  
"Some of it I can. You might say the magnetism was also magical - literally. There was also the very strong aura of good she radiated. It was strange, but in a good way - that was the first time my divination powers had ever aroused that sort of reaction."  
  
"I note you say 'first' and not 'only'."  
  
Onyx looked over Dawn's body. "Well, to the degree I can't control it."  
  
"But To what degree should you? To what degree have you?"  
  
"Better than most can."  
  
"Control, yes - I can tell," Dawn smirked. "But my second question referred not to control, but to arousal."  
  
"I'll admit I've had to invoke the former against the latter just now."  
  
"And now my first question?"  
  
"Should I? The answer to that, I think, is answered by remembering that we were talking about my beloved Aerie."  
  
"Very well. Do tell more. I believe things were not so simple as what you've told so far would suggest?"  
  
"Unfortunately not. Even though our feelings should have been mutually obvious - I suppose they were to a few of our companions, but Jaheira obviously had no interest in alerting us, and Yoshimo whispered a few things my way but I was unsure of them - neither of us would admit to the other for quite some time. Even so, our circumstances still gave me my doubts - it was an especially dangerous period during my adventuring, and for a while it did not seem like she had the strength or will for it, and I did not want to fall in love with someone who might leave. Generally, if she had, say, gone back to like with Quayle and I could have still seen her - we did stay in Athkatla most of the time - but I wouldn't have wanted to spare even a fraction of my time or attention from getting back Imoen. Not to mention that caring about someone like that would have made a ripe kidnapping opportunity for my enemies - which as you know, essentially ended up being the case anyway. But I did commit myself to trying to console her about her past trauma, to make her see the beauty of life on the ground, and overcome her fear of adventuring. I wanted to help her, and thought she could become a very powerful ally. It was on a knife's edge at first - she acted as if she would have literally laid down and died if I'd let her - but I believed that she could become a stronger person, and a much more powerful one too - I'd not let my feelings affect my judgment on her place in the party - and indeed, as her spellcaster powers grew, which they did considerably, her character grew too. Her whining was annoying to the group, but never that much to me, most importantly because she didn't act less capable than her abilities in the heat of battle, and perhaps also because I did truly pity her for her ordeal. It was understandably very, very traumatic for her, and talking helped. Jaheira saw it as inherent weakness; but I think it was not so much that she was weak or needy as she just wanted attention and pity - which is quite warranted in her case - and, in turned out, love. And gradually, she grew, and though she may still be outwardly whiny from time to time, she is very strong and has a good heart."  
  
"But a jealous heart, yes?"  
  
"She and Jaheira never got along, and the reasons are far more than me. They argued on ethical and philosophical points - like Jaheira and I, but with less bother for civility. Jaheira had a much harsher stance towards her whining and weakness from the beginning. Jaheira and I had a number of private discussions on whether Aerie should really be with us. Of course you know who thought what; though I know both of us were putting tactical and logistical considerations above personal. I saw what Aerie could be, Jaheira did not. Ultimately, I was proved right. From the moment I met her, I was professionally fascinated by Aerie's simultaneous abilities in divine and arcane magic - remember the tales of that Paladin of Mystra who was among the heroes to stop the goblinoid hordes of Icewind Dale a few generations ago? I was fascinated by that story as a boy; and always regretted I had not the intelligence to study the arcane. I felt Aerie could be great, and she is; far far better than her own mentor Quayle, whom I actually crossed paths with in Baldur's Gate last year - that meeting left me with a much lower regard for those who spread their studies too broad and thin - as well as during the circus incident with him this past Mirtul - I'm not having very good luck with circuses, am I? I wonder if it shall continue - But Aerie has changed my opinions. Heck, she's even a good fighter now, although admittedly it's Crom Faeyr doing most of the work. And I see great things for her to come, not only in adventuring and field combat, but possibly in research, which she may be doing right now if she's reached Candlekeep yet; as she is in a somewhat unique position to combine both types of magic in inventing new spells. She's not quite to that point yet, but I think she will be in the near future."  
  
"It sounds as though your attention to her has been optimistic yet perseverant - a coupling of traits of Lathander himself shares and espouses. But you've somewhat glazed over the issue of jealousy. For example, do you really think Jaheira's discussions with you about Aerie were purely of tactical concern? I'm sure that was her opinion on the matter - her harsh nature has already been quite evident to me these past few days - but perhaps she brought it up a bit more often? And do you think that perhaps Aerie, while I'm sure she believes what she argued with the druid, used it as a wedge between you and her, knowing of your own philosophical differences or just guessing them from your careers?"  
  
"Oh sure; it's occurred to me. They might have done it consciously or subconsciously or both. But everyone does things like that now and then. I try to expunge all elements of dishonesty from my own manner when speaking with allies and friends; but I'm sure I've still internal biases; and I think most people, even good people, do and have less of a bone about it. I wouldn't call either of them 'scheming' as a general personality trait, though it's possible their could have been tendencies on this matter. They are otherwise very forthright - especially so, in fact; both are quite quick to say what's on their minds, though Jaheira more out of bossiness and Aerie more out of whininess."  
  
"What of the fact that Jaheira's bossiness may have been an attempt to show herself off as a strong woman; or Aerie's whininess in an attempt to curry damsel-in-distress appeal?"  
  
"Well, I think mostly they acted naturally; it'd be rather egotistical to think they were revolving their behavior around me. Jaheira was.a bit more extreme in her behavior during that time than she had been in the past, but then again our Sword Coast adventures were far traumatic. To the extent that such concerns my have shaded it with either of them; I don't necessarily see that as scheming or manipulative: if Aerie wants a very caring and attentative lover, then showing an emotionally fragile side is a way to test my suitability; analogously with Jaheira. It's my estimation that Aerie not so much needed the coddling as just wanted it. Thus her bouts do not reflect true weakness, but nor are they disingenuous - I think many who observed her would trap themselves in a false dichotomy there."  
  
"An optimistic assessment - but I believe in optimism too, and have faith in your judgment."  
  
"Well, I'm not the most acute in these matters; but thanks."  
  
"But tell me - you haven't quite answered whether the old damsel-in- distress bit appeals to you; or do you prefer the strong woman?"  
  
"In a word, I prefer strength. It has nothing to do with intricacies of my own tastes; I have not the luxury for that - I am an adventurer, I have spent over a year being hunted by a variety of maniacs and now I'm seeking them out myself, and I need all the strength I can get. But it is important to differentiate between real strength, and the topical mannerisms of strong personality - though the latter can translate into material strength in some situations. But I include the core of personality in the former; as in someone's tendency to stand up for themselves. So, all else being equal, which sort of mannerisms do I prefer in an immaterial situation? I confess I have no general rule of preferences. Doesn't really answer your question, except by saying I can't. In Aerie's case I would say that I did not enjoy her desire for emotional support itself, but I did enjoy being helpful; as I do generally - as one would hope, given my profession - with a caveat. I would not enjoy the creation of a need for me to fix, and I am not happy to see someone in need - I believe many, particular those who fancy themselves overly heroic, fall into this trap of wanting someone to dig ditches so they can fill them up again - but I am happy to fix it. I'd not say that I enjoy it, but simply that I believe it's the right thing to do, and it is rewarding to see what good one has done. It's the same with just killing. It shouldn't be enjoyed, but its ends should be appreciated. In the case of Aerie, I can't say I enjoyed hearing her whining, but I didn't really mind it - except that it pained me to see her unhappy. She was actually quite good about not acting helpless in battle, which was my first clue that it wasn't a fundamental weakness, but merely a trait of her verbal personality. Nevertheless, I can certainly see how it would annoy most people, like it did Yoshimo, - though I think he found it a tad amusing too, which I didn't quite approve of, but that's another story - Nalia - though she of course pitied Aerie and masked her annoyance with concern, it was the same polite, almost forced, look-at-how-kind-I-am concern.but I'm being too hard on dear Nalia, she is a very caring person - and Jaheira, whose feelings on the matter you're quite aware of. Minsc, of course, was nothing but caring for new witch, and he says Boo was too; Valygar didn't betray an opinion on the matter at all, as you can image; and by the same we found Imoen, Aerie was already more self-controlled. And from a tactical standpoint, I believe she has become powerful than Jaheira, and perhaps any of my other companions or myself. So I can't say categorically which of the two types I prefer, but perhaps I luckily don't have to - Aerie has been the best of both worlds."  
  
"Even without cognizing the content of your words, though of course I am, I can see your great love for her, and you know how?"  
  
"How?" Onyx asked but with a wry grin as if he guessed her answer.  
  
"Have you noticed that it's only when speaking of her that you say more than one short sentence at a time, and then you'll go for minutes on end?"  
  
"Imoen pointed that out to me.several times," Onyx laughed sheepishly, "With varying degrees of amusement and annoyance."  
  
Dawn giggled but then her face grew more serious. "You neglected your other companions on the road, didn't you?" the tone was not quite of admonishment, but more of sympathy. "The strain with your warder has been obvious. I can imagine it was so with your sister."  
  
"She.is not as confrontational about such things," Onyx began guiltily, "But perhaps I did not give her as much attention as I should have. She spent so much longer in Irenicus's clutches. We discovered we were siblings - though it changed little, I suppose we always considered ourselves so. She lost her soul. She has been through so much. I tried to be there for her, but I think she could have used more comfort than she let on. Oh, she's tough to the core, but it would have done her well. She has lost the edge of her happy nature, but it can be resharpened. Her current vacation should help, and I mean to as well when this thing is over."  
  
"Very good of you. In the meantime, perhaps you would be wise to do the same with another you have neglected." Onyx gulped and down nodded, "Yes, Jaheira. You have been.avoiding her almost, I've noticed since I joined your group. It is understandable - you fear another intimate moment," Onyx balked as she said 'another' and Dawn smiled knowingly, "But it is not the right way to handle it. Onyx, she is gradually growing more distant from you personally and philosophically. Alienate her, and you may do more than lose a friend and a rightful soulmate - you may eventually make an enemy."  
  
Onyx gulped louder.  
  
"As with Imoen, surely you feel you neglected her on your recent adventures and harbor guilt. Now is the time to right that. If you do not, when this quest is over, she will likely go her separate way, and you may see her never again, or next from opposite sides of a battlefield. I realize we will soon begin the most dangerous and hopefully final leg of this adventure, and you might think this is no time for such things, but indeed this is your only time, and it is running out. You must reach out to her, Onyx, you must become close to her, as you are to Imoen or Aerie - or Minsc, though that bond is so much simpler - or you will both be the lesser for it, and regret it for the rest of your lives. The nature of it I leave to you, but remember that devotion is not blindness, and commitment is not imprisonment. They say you feel no fear on the battlefield, Onyx, do not give in to it now."  
  
The cavalier clamped his teeth together and nodded reluctantly. "You speak wisely, Dawn."  
  
Dawn smiled as the sunrise finally came over the hill behind Onyx and surrounded him a halo of sunlight. "Very good, knight," she smiled as she noticed a half-elven figure stirring in the camp on the hill, her silhouette quite striking against the sunlight surrounding her, and she pointed up to Onyx, who turned around and nodded understandingly, "Let us return to the others now. A new day has begun." 


	13. A Girl And Her Tin Man, or A Few Good Ma...

13. A Girl And Her Tin-Man; or A Few Good Mages  
  
13 FLAMERULE 1400 CANDLEKEEP  
  
Aerie, Imoen, and Nalia were sitting around a table piled high with books and scrolls on the fourth floor of the Candlekeep library, which housed among other things the keep's works on necromancy; and this was the subject material of the texts on the girls' table.  
  
"It's funny," Imoen sighed while twirling a quill, "People tend to think of necromancers as villainous, and I guess the only one I've known was pretty evil, and insane too, and even looked like a demonic clown. But I wonder if that's really the preponderance of them? I mean, there's a lot of good stuff in necromancy, like all your healing spells, Aerie."  
  
"Yeah," the avariel agreed, "I think maybe if more clerics and necromancers insisted on reviving bodies in...natural ways...it wouldn't get such a bad rap. But all the undead creation and death magic and negative energy tapping is flashier, I guess, and the practitioners are swayed by the power. Not that death magic can't be used justly, but...I guess most of them don't? Or the evil ones just get more attention? Maybe the attention the powermongering ones get is what lures them there, and so evil necromancy becomes a more famous field, and it's sort of a vicious cycle." The avariel bit her lip and looked out a window, pensively.  
  
"I think you're right, Aerie," Nalia said as she fidgeted with her bonded signet ring, "People don't get as much attention for good deeds, and it's a shame. Like I've noticed when someone donates to the poor it largely goes unnoticed. If anything, other rich nobles will just quietly scoff at them."  
  
"Well," Aerie added, "Ideally people shouldn't do good things just for the recognition, but I guess it's better than not doing them at all."  
  
Nalia nodded and then asked, "So, Immy, any reason it was on your mind?"  
  
A sad look came over Imoen's face. Her eyes glanced longingly at Aerie's long pointy ears and then she looked down in her own lap. "Yeah...I was reading in this book here about, ya know, good stuff you can do with necromancy. Not just healing, but..well, you know how they say Elminster extended his life? Theories on that."  
  
Nalia's face fell too and she understood Imoen's full meaning. "I guess...we all get our chance to be the jealous one," she sighed and looked Aerie in the eyes, cracking a sad smile at her own joke. "I never really thought about it until this week," she added, and Imoen nodded.  
  
"I know this might seem stupid," the avariel began, "But...me too." The humans shot her envious glances, and Aerie felt their full sting, and Nalia's 'jest' made her grit her teeth in regret of her own envious spat earlier that day. "What I mean is," she continued, holding one hand of each of her companions with her own, "I was thinking about how...I don't want you guys to...grow old and..." tears began to well in all six eyes, "I want the best for everyone else too, and I don't want everyone to...leave me."  
  
"Not everyone will," Imoen flipped a few pages of her book with her free hand, and began to skim it as she spoke, "For example, apparently having a superhuman constitution can make a human lifespan...more like other races'." She looked pointedly at Aerie. "You're in luck, babe," she smiled.  
  
A flash of happiness came over Aerie's face, but then melted into despair. "But he...he..." her face began turning red, "You heard what Phlydia said..."  
  
"Aerie," Imoen clasped Aerie's hand between both of hers, "You don't really believe that, do you? I mean, bards get things wrong all the time..."  
  
"But we all know it is based on truth, Immy," Nalia countered, causing Aerie to wince, "You missed a lot of it while you were in Spellhold, but I'm sure you've noticed the tension lately too. And now that they're alone."  
  
Aerie laid her head down on the table and began to sob softly. "I'm such a fool! I should have gone with them! And used my magic to protect him too! Now this has happened, and he might die anyway!"  
  
"Maybe we all should have gone," Imoen sighed, "As strong as they are, can you imagine them having to go through all our recent ordeals without this half of the party! All their mages! Well I know they've been joined by others, but.we should have gone."  
  
Nalia nodded and Aerie let out another sob from the table. "I'm so STUPID!" the avariel gave a muffled scream.  
  
"Aerie," Imoen's tone became harsher, "Ya know, frankly I'm a little insulted. That's my own brother you're accusing, and has he shown you anything but complete loyalty and devotion? He's utterly in love with ya, ya know - he talked to me about it, heck, it's one of the only things he talked to me about lately, you'd have thunk he'd have wanted to talk about being bro and sis a little more!! - and he's the most honorable man I know. And yet you act paranoid, like he's some scoundrel ready to jump ship at the first chance."  
  
"I'm not accusing him, Immy," Aerie said with managed calm as she lifted her head up, "I'm just worried. I mean, you're right it doesn't seem like him, but if the story is wrong, isn't it kind of a strange coincidence that their mistake just happens to be the one thing I was most worried about?"  
  
Imoen admitted, "Yeah, that's odd, it's almost like someone's trying to ruffle your feathers," and the wingless elf winced at the idiom. Imoen thought she heard a devilish snicker from nearby in the library, but when she turned to look she could she no one.  
  
"Well," Nalia spoke up, "to a casual observer familiar with the backstory, this would almost seem predictable."  
  
"NALIA!" Imoen snapped, "This is NOT predictable if you know anything about my brother! Aerie, you know he wouldn't do this! I've known him my whole life!"  
  
"But we were around at times you weren't, important times," Nalia reminded her. "And surely you'd agree, that.despite his morals, he did have inklings in that direction? You two did meet.her.nearly a year before we knew any of you."  
  
"Now you're disgracing Khalid!" Imoen burst out.  
  
"I still find it hard to buy that she'd have loved a man like he sounded to be," Nalia dug in. Aerie nodded; she had once said the same.  
  
"Don't insult the memory of Khalid!" Imoen's face wrinkled up. She didn't like talking about Khalid.what had happened to him, the things she had been forced to watch, had been burned over all her mind's other memories of the man. No, no, Imoen, she told herself, think of him laughing or talking or fighting or..See? He would cut and say see? Do you see? Cut some more and say do you see? Imoen closed her eyes, took a deep breath, cleared her mind, and continued. "Maybe Onyx HAD inklings at some point in the past, but not anymore! He decided on you, Aerie, and since you're the one he's been giving all his attention to lately," Imoen's eyes narrowed slightly at the avariel, "you of all people should be confident in this."  
  
"That all makes sense, but in my heart I just can't stop worrying, Imoen!" Aerie pleaded, "You've never been in love, you wouldn't understand!"  
  
Imoen's face grew deathly pale and Aerie instantly regretted her words. "I'm.sorry Immy," Aerie's face begged for forgiveness, "I.didn't mean it like-"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Imoen cried. She put her face in her hands. She did not sob, but rather seemed almost in shock. Aerie and Nalia exchanged worried glances.  
  
Many minutes passed in awkward silence, Imoen keeping her face buried in her hands under her pink bangs, Aerie and Nalia sitting nervously and occasionally looking at each other for silent moral support. Finally Imoen sighed and spoke, "Just.stop worrying Aerie. He loves you more than his own life. Do you know what happened when.Bodhi stole you? He went nuts, Aerie, completely nuts. He shattered an entire row of tombstones with his bare hands. I could smell the Bhaal taint in his sweat. He roared so loud I think they could hear it in the docks district. He uprooted an obelisk and hurled it like a gigantic javelin through a sepulcher thirty feet away. He was more berserk than I think Minsc has ever gone. And then.he started to become this strange beast.but not quite. He started to shapeshift several times but each time returned to his human form, and then he finally collapsed and just cried."  
  
Aerie had been listening slackjawed the entire time, clutching her hands over her heart while her eyelids brimmed with tears. "Oh.that's terrible."  
  
"He really loves you, Aerie."  
  
"I really love him too, Immy. I mean, I wouldn't be this worried if I didn't love him so much. I had a crush on him ever since we first met. Actually, even before we met. See, you guys crossed paths with Quayle in Baldur's Gate, right? Well, after Quayle bought the circus and started mentoring me, he told me all about your adventures stopping the Iron Throne, and about you guys. It was just like one of those fairytales, except it had just happened. He told me about when he helped you guys rescue that nymph from that wizard, Abela and Ragefast I think were their names. I mean, the old damsel-in-distress and evil-wizard-in-the-tower; it doesn't get any more classic than that, does it? He told me about it and you guys and I got a crush on this Onyx character I'd heard about; and.well, I can thank Quayle from rescuing me from the other circus, even if it was an accident of business more than an altruistic endeavor, but.well after he told me that story, I used to daydream about being like Abela; I mean not that I wanted to get captured by anyone again, but.you know.the getting rescued part..oh, it all sounds so silly!"  
  
"Not at all," Nalia smiled, "Go on."  
  
"Well, now if a wizard captured me I'm sure I'd just blow him and his whole tower to smithereens, but you know how I was then, Nal."  
  
"You've really changed, Aerie," Nalia smiled, "Much for the better I think. And don't thank us. Thank yourself."  
  
Aerie beamed. "Thanks Nal! I can't believe how much my life has changed in only two months."  
  
Nalia got a daydreamy look in her eyes. "So what was it like when you two first met?" she exchanged curious glanced with Imoen, "Neither one of us were there, ironically."  
  
Aerie blushed slightly but began to speak. "It was almost like being in a fairytale. Well, no, because it was a heck of a lot scarier.somehow, even though fairytales are usually fraught with danger, that part never really hits home with you read them, even though the good parts do; funny isn't it? - Kalah really turned that circus into an upside-down maze. So there I was, looking like an ogre, and through the tent doors, smashing orcs as they went by, come these four adventurers. Two big armored men with swords, a roguish looking guy with a bow, and a half-elven lady with a staff. So my first reaction was one of joy, because it looks like they're here to save us all. But then I suddenly was overcome with overwhelming panic, because I realized I looked like a monster myself. So I call out to them, and fortunately Kalah forgot to alter my voice. The smaller of the two warrior men looks at me closely, and I can tell he's casting a detect evil, which comes as a great relief to me. Then he takes off his helmet to address me, and wow! He was so cute! Hard to believe that very same day he'd woken up in a cage after being tortured, fought his way out of a large stinking dungeon, had his closest friend stolen away," Aerie smiled comfortingly at Imoen, "And started blazing through the circus. You'd have thought his face would have been covered in grime and blood and stuff."  
  
"He always liked to keep his face wiped down as he goes," Imoen nodded, "For negotiations just like that. Although you probably noticed the rest of him ain't too clean after a day of adventuring..wooo that guy can sweat.yeech!"  
  
"And he looked.wow.I know it's supposed to be hard to tell under armor, but like a perfect hunk. Not a big oaf like Minsc - though my new bodyguard is almost like a giant teddy bear! - or a wiry little greaseballl like Yoshimo, but just.perfect."  
  
"And what did you think of Valygar?" Nalia grinned mischievously .  
  
Aerie thought for a second, "He was pretty hunky. A little too dark and roguish for my tastes, but I know that can appeal," she grinned back, "But to me, Onyx was just.perfect. Like they draw them in the storybooks. And the first time I saw him sans armor.oooh!" Aerie shut her eyes and smiled unabashedly.  
  
"Yeah, even I can see that," Imoen winked at Aerie, "Back in Candlekeep he trained pretty hard to get that way though."  
  
"I believe it," Aerie laughed, "So once he started addressing me and agreed to dispel my illusion by fetching that sword, of course my heart leapt into my throat again because I had my crush on him and was hoping he thought I was pretty and such. But then my heart sunk again, because I realized I still looked like an ogre, and that can't be a good first impression! Once he dispelled it I was nervous, and I think I must have had a really obvious stare, and come to think of it so did he - though, being as naïve as I was then, it didn't really click at the time. After the moment was broken by a goblin on a pogo-stick (which Onyx quickly dispatched with great irritation, and I like to think he was as pissed at the goblin's timing as at the idle threat it represented) and he agreed to let me join the party, once again I was both exhilarated by the chance to be alongside him, and to be a hero myself, but terrified at having to confront Kalah and his minions. That was about the first time I'd been in a real battle situation. I was so nervous I could barely cast my spells properly. It's a good thing I didn't have to go toe-to-toe with a monster then; Onyx and Minsc were doing a good job of physically intercepting them for me. I kinda felt like a burden on everyone though because of that, and Jaheira really let me know it after that first battle, but Onyx said I'd been invaluable with the fireballs and confusions and stuff I tossed during the battle and the healing I provided after (it's a good thing, because Jaheira was pretty much spent for the day after Irenicus's lair). When I apologized for being so weak, I remember he just shrugged and smiled and said that's how it was with spellcasters, he was used to protecting Dynaheir and you," Aerie nodded at Imoen, "in battles. Of course, Jaheira made a point of disagreeing with him in front of everyone, touting about how she and Branwen could hold their own when the monsters got through him and Minsc. And she was more right than Onyx would admit, and so I tried to get better escaping melee confrontations or fighting back when monsters would sometimes get close, but it was really, really, really scary. I think Onyx's encouragement - he really does have an amazing ability to instill courage in his companions - really helped, as did my inner drive to try to do the right thing. That was the first time I was really doing good, and it was scary but I liked it. It felt good, it was almost liberating, to stop just worrying about my own misery and do heroic things. That, and," Aerie blushed slightly, "trying to impress Onyx and be with him are really what kept me going. Otherwise I'm sure I'd have scurried right back to Quayle, I don't actually enjoy the combat or the stinky dungeon exploration the way some people seem too."  
  
Nalia and Imoen wrinkled their noses. "Well, exploring is kinda fun," Imoen smiled, "But not with slime and monsters everywhere!" and the others laughed.  
  
"And I also still had all my old fears about the past, about my imprisonment. I'm so glad Onyx let me just talk to him, I know I babbled and whined, but I needed to get it out. It was so terrible. My childhood in Faenya-Dail was so perfect until that day. It was almost literally like falling from heaven to hell. It wasn't until you guys that I felt like I was climbing back up again. Thank you."  
  
Imoen and Nalia gripped Aerie's hands as a few tears escaped from the avariel's faraway-looking eyes. "Adventuring changed me a little too," Nalia smiled. "I never did anything nearly as dangerous - or rewarding - before I joined you guys. I'm glad we were there for each other."  
  
"Me too," Aerie smiled, "And I think Jaheira's scolding might have actually been good for me. I knew she had good points, even though of course I argued back. I had to get stronger, so I worked on it. But I think Onyx's encouragement helped more! It was really good to have him to talk to. I guess that's what really made me fall in love with him. When he looks deep into your eyes and asks about you caringly, it makes you feel like the only person in the world!"  
  
"That it does," Imoen agreed with a faraway look while brushing a pink bang aside.  
  
"And the way he cares about his principles, too. I really admired that. After all the scoundrels I'd come across, and Quayle's apathy on everything, he was so.strong. But caring, not rigid, like that stupid Annoy- Man guy that we came across, remember Nal?"  
  
Nalia nodded. "He was an arrogant one. Trust me, even before I met you guys, I spent way more time in his company at the Copper Coronet than I'd have ever liked to!"  
  
"Well, Onyx can also be a little arrogant," Aerie sighed, "But I guess I can too, so maybe we're made for each other. I like it better than being weak, maybe because I had to work on that more, and all the people at the circus were either spineless, or aggressive in evil ways. And Onyx just seemed like he cared about me so much, as an ally or companion or lover, that it really swept me off my feet, and he was so heroic that it made me want him and want to be like him. But I guess a lot of it is just almost- magical attraction, I just found myself in love with him. Even when you can say all these things you like about someone, it's hard to pin down exactly why you're in love. You just are. And I really, really am."  
  
"I know what you mean," Nalia replied dreamily and looked up, while Imoen gave the other two longing, appraising glances and bit her lip.  
  
"And I love you two also," Aerie continued and squeezed their hands, causing both their faces to almost melt. "Like childhood friends, or sisters, I can't believe I've known you only two months. I hope we're always there for each other."  
  
Nalia and Imoen's faces fell and they exchanged sad glances.  
  
Aerie bit her lip regretfully. "Sorry, I didn't me-.no, but I do mean that. And I more than hope. I *want* us to be there for each other always. So, Imoen, tell us more about what that book says." 


	14. We Were Monsters, or The Rasheman Witch ...

14. We Were Monsters or The Rasheman Witch Project  
  
13 FLAMERULE 1400 OUTSIDE THE GNOLL STRONGHOLD  
  
SPLASH!  
  
"Sorry, Onyx! Minsc squeezed his water flask too hard yet again in his haste to drink!"  
  
"Like, you totally splashed Sir Onyx again! That is soooo funny!"  
  
Onyx shook his head out as he returned to the present. He looked over at his Rashemanian friend, the giggling teenaged undead hunter Buffy next to him, and up at the gnoll stronghold now looming before them all. "It's getting to be a hot day, I actually quite liked that," he chuckled.  
  
"The place is far from vacant," Arra Flyte called from nearby while looking through a spyglass, her elven chainmail glimmering in the afternoon sun. "Gnolls still inhabit this stronghold, apparently. Lots of them." The multitalented elven Harper handed the spyglass to Valygar, who looked through and nodded.  
  
Onyx pulled out another and looked through. "Whoa! There are many more than last time I was here, and they look more organized." Minsc and Jaheira exchanged surprised glances. "It's like a whole gnoll town!"  
  
Indeed it was. The various levels of the old fortress were crawling with gnolls, who seemed to be marching around in an organized fashion. Many were carrying crates of supplies to and fro, with their halberds slung over their backs; others held them at the ready as if on guard duty. Many of these were standing beside pyramidal piles of stones; each about as large as a man's head. "Hurling rocks," Arra pointed out.  
  
"Guess they've finally gotten smart enough to use ranged weapons against intruders," Jaheira grimaced, "Bummer."  
  
"Minsc and Boo and friends shall fight their way through gnoll after gnoll after gnoll, kicking gnoll-butt and taking gnoll-names along the way, and when they give little gnoll-pleads for mercy, Minsc will only stick his boot up their gnoll-rears once more, and then."  
  
"It may not be so simple," the group's only druid interrupted. "Arra and Dawn, do we have enough magic to blast them away?"  
  
"Between my repertoire and my wands, I still don't think so," Arra, the group's only mage, bit her lip.  
  
"I concur," nodded the group's only cleric, Dawn, idly polishing with a thumb the Lathanderian emblem on her breastplate.  
  
"Don't forget about our exploding ammunition," Valygar reminded as he twirled an orange-headed arrow in his fingers.  
  
"Even with enough raw firepower," Arra began as she continued looking through her spyglass, "We have defensive and range concerns. It'll be a literal uphill battle, and it looks as though they have some gnoll shamans and mages among their ranks."  
  
"There's a decent degree of cover," Valygar pointed out, "And we have the equipment and spells to protect ourselves from their foul magics to a good degree."  
  
"Yes, but we'll still be going uphill against a hail of boulders," Arra sighed, and the rest of the party looked non-eagerly at the heavily manned (or rather, gnolled) fortress up the rocky mountainside from them. "Wait.why don't we give them a hail of boulders?" the Harper's voice brightened as she tilted her spyglass further up.  
  
Everyone followed her line of sight, and it dawned upon each of them (at various speeds) what she was getting it. The gnoll stronghold was built against the side of a mountain, and a rocky one at that. Stronghold Mountain, it was only known as. Higher up, above the stronghold, the mountaintop was dotted with piles of rocks and boulders.  
  
"Avalanche them?" Onyx inquired.  
  
"Exactly!" Arra grinned.  
  
"Very clever," Onyx chuckled and drew a smile from her.  
  
"Wouldn't we risk burying our supposed doorway to the Jeweler's palace under a pile of rubble?" Jaheira wondered.  
  
"Between the natural strength and the giant-belts among us; I think we could clear them away if it came to that," Onyx said.  
  
"The amount of loose rubble up there isn't that great," Arra analyzed, "I don't think we'd bury the decks of the stronghold, just send boulders rolling across them. As long as we're careful with our detonation."  
  
"Sounds like a plan," Onyx nodded, "The way around to the top was this way, if I recall," he pointed and began to lead.  
  
Rather than crossing the bridge leading to the front archways of the stronghold, the party ran up a side trail along the far side of a mountain stream that fed into the river over which said bridge ran. The trail sloped upward, steeper and steeper, and they began to climb the side of the mountain. The stronghold and the river delta at its foot now loomed below them, the mountain peak up ahead. Stronghold Mountain was, in fact, once part of the Cloudpeaks, but this river had over the eons cut a wide but rocky valley between it and the other peaks of the range. Now, it loomed a lonely mountain over the coast, with the stronghold built against its base; the reason for the fortress's placement - and the identities of those responsible - long forgotten.  
  
As their elevation increased, the trail became steeper but the stream became smaller, more of a mountain brook, and finally they crossed it without a bridge. After about half an hour more of hiking, they passed the tree line, and stood upon bare rocks. The view grew ever more majestic; upon the south side of the mountain they could see both the Sea of Swords to the west, the separated range of Cloudpeaks to the south, and the fields and forests of Nashkel's environs to the east. Still they climbed up, and at last reached the barren, rocky peak of Stronghold Mountain.  
  
Arra looked down through her spyglass at the stronghold set against the side of the mountain below. She carefully traced out with her eyes the paths that a falling boulder would take as it went down the mountain; indeed, the slick side had the look of a place that had seen avalanches in the past. "Alright, gang, the thing to do is to set potions of explosions at the bases of the boulders on their uphill sides; tie ropes around the bottles and tie these ropes back to each other in a branching fashion, making one big fuse, and then to light the end of it once all is set."  
  
Arra began to point to various boulders, and her companions ran about tying ends of ropes around potions and then wedging the bottles in their bases. Soon they had rigged a few dozen boulders, and began to trail the ropes back, cut them to appropriate lengths, and tie them to one another in a reverse-branching fashion, eventually culminating in a single end. Arra walked about the operation; trying to visualize in her mind the trajectories each boulder would take.  
  
She looked through her spyglass down at the stronghold itself. Gnolls still swarmed over its surface, moving large crates about. She noticed a smithy and an outdoor kitchen - which had a number of humanoid skeletons strewn about it - being operated on different decks; and she saw patrols walking up and down the paths around the stronghold.  
  
"Alright, get back everybody!" the muscular elven lady called and the other six walked back along the rocky plateau to a place well behind the rigged boulders and ropes. She walked back to the one free end of the branching tree of rope on the ground, and squatted over it. She put her hands together and then splayed all ten fingers out in a fan. She chanted a few arcane syllables, and an arc of fire blossomed like webbing from her fingers and caught the tip of the rope alight. It burned along, and as it came to the first fork in the rope, each piece caught on fire, and then these forked and each branch caught fire from it, and after a few more forks there was a single rope burning down toward each boulder. The ropes had been equated in length, curving around if necessary, and each potion of explosions was reached at once.  
  
The party members, now hiding behind a large unrigged boulder, heard a deafening chain of explosions and could see fire leaping high into the sky. Small chunks of rock flew around the sides of their boulder. And then, they could hear the other boulders beginning to roll. The seven eagerly ran around the sides of their hiding place and up to the edge of the plateau. Their boulders were beginning to roll down the sloping side of Stronghold Mountain, and began hitting other boulders as they went, which too began to roll. The impacts slowed down the original boulders, but then gravity would pick them up again, and they would continue to carve paths of chaos down the side of the mountain. So too smaller rocks hit by the others began to tumble end over end, and soon an entire river of rock was roaring down the mountain.  
  
Looking through her spyglass again, Arra could see the gnolls on the stronghold looking up in frozen awe at the great noise and the strange sight, and then they began to howl in panic. But so thick upon the decks of the stronghold were they that few could move quickly in the throng, and they pushed each other around in the crowd as the avalanche bore down upon them. And then, the first rocks of the avalanche sailed over the short cliff just over the stronghold, and crashed into the gnolls on the stronghold. The sounds of their canine howls and their bones breaking filled the air, and more and bigger rocks came too, smashing entire gnolls under them, or hitting the stone of the deck and bouncing and rolling into gnolls, ramming them, driving over them, knocking them off the decks and sending them already broken, to fall and break again on lower decks or natural rocks below. Still more of the avalanche poured over the stronghold, burying gnolls, breaking their bones, halberds, crates, and other equipment. The gnolls knocked into each other, inadvertently impaling one another on their improperly sheathed halberds, and those that managed to survive the first rocks, and tried to crawl over them to safety, were then hit as more sailed through the air and landed upon them.  
  
From above, the party could now only see a great cloud of dust rising over the stronghold, but they could hear the drowning roar of the avalanche, and also the feral howls of the gnolls being crushed under the geological tide. After a few more minutes, both sounds stopped. The air was now eerily quiet by contrast. The party members could hear only the faint sounds of the river below, and birds flying through the air around them, the breathing of their companions, and the beating of their own hearts.  
  
The air was pierced by victorious cries from the party, and they hugged one another and cheered. Onyx and Minsc hoisted Arra up on their shoulders and carried her around the plateau in a little mock parade and congratulated her clever plan. She laughed heartily as they set her down, but then bade them to hurry down the mountain; for most of the mission, and the worst of it, was yet to go.  
  
The party came back down the mountain trail, and back to the bridge. It was wise that they had their ranged weapons at the ready, for the gnoll patrols which had been outside the stronghold still roamed about, quite confused and scared, but still did not hesitate in charging the party when they saw them; goaded on by their rage at the recent turn of events in their gnoll-town. They were easily dispatched by the sure shots of the party, which at last came to the makeshift front gate of the stronghold, which had been crushed by rocks that were easy enough to step over.  
  
They made their way up the steps, and Jaheira nodded approvingly as they came onto the lower deck of the stronghold. It was indeed not buried, and in fact it was possible to find one's way across the actual floor of the deck over the very small rocks. Boulders were scattered about, but they did not cover the deck; and many had been broken into smaller chunks in their fall. A few gnolls bodies still twitched, most partially covered by rocks, but none seemed to be in any condition to offer resistance, if indeed they were still truly alive at all.  
  
"Well, here's the pit," Onyx pointed to a pit in the upper deck, in which a Rashemanian Wychalarn known as Dynaheir had once been chained, in which now a huge boulder happened to be sitting. "This is the one."  
  
".where..Minsc and friends rescued.Dynaheir.." Minsc looked down at his feet and stroked Boo.  
  
The ranger's moment of sad reflection was interrupted when one of the doors leading into a tower of the keep burst open and a squad of gnolls began pouring out. First came a row of them with halberds, and though Valygar, Arra, and Buffy wasted no time in sinking arrows and bolts into them while Dawn and Jaheira thought quickly and prepared spells, they came on with the shafts of the missiles sticking out of the their armor. Then a squad of gnolls appeared on top of the tower and began hurling down boulders while Minsc and Onyx drew out melee weapons and charged the first group.  
  
The halberd gnolls had come a few yards from the door when the warriors from Rasheman and Candlekeep engaged them, and while halberds crossed with two-handed swords, more poured about behind these. First came a quartet of gnolls carrying large two-handed hammers instead of halberds, and bearing emblems of gnollish deities on their armor, and then behind them another four with quarterstaffs, and these eight began were chanting in strange, animalistic growls. Jaheira and Dawn completed their priest spells, and storms of flame, acid, and lightning descended upon the boulder- throwing gnolls on top of the tower. The rock-hurling snipers howled as their fur and fleshed burnt; several fell over the edge of the tower and conveniently landed upon the gnoll spellcasters below and disrupted a few of them. Into the rest of these Arra cast a burst of chain lightning, which burned gnoll-flesh and disrupted gnoll-concentration. Minsc and Onyx were hacking straight through gnollish halberds, and the warrior gnolls themselves, with easy swings from Gram and Carsomyr, and the two mighty warriors started on the spellcasters once finishing off the front line. Valygar and Arra sent arrows flying around Minsc's and Onyx's helmeted heads into their foes, and soon Jaheira ran up and joined the melee with her scimitars flashing. Dawn knocked aside a falling rock with her shield while Arra notched an arrow and shot the gnoll above who had dared survive the storms to toss down another boulder  
  
As the gnollish clerics and mages were assaulted by the adventurers, one mage decided in the nick of time he'd be better off running through the door he'd unwisely decide to burst out of in the first place, and turned and fled just after Carsomyr slashed his quarterstaff in two but before it slashed him in two as well. Onyx gave chase, and Minsc and Jaheira followed him, but just as Onyx ran through the door, the gnoll mage, now inside the room, turned and cast a fireball at the cavalier. Onyx ducked and it hit the arch over the doorway with a loud explosion, collapsing the open doorway under a pile of bricks. While the magical fire burned harmlessly around his enchanted and armored body, Onyx wasted no time in charging the mage and gutting him cleanly on his greatsword, which he then twisted and jerked so hard that he tore the beast-mage in half.  
  
The cavalier turned to see himself trapped inside, alone, Jaheira and Minsc yelling from the other side. The room was dark and foul-smelling, the only light coming from makeshift 'windows', i.e. single missing bricks, in the high wall overhead. There had once been usable furniture in the room but it was now mostly smashed up; the only real 'tables' were loose bricks that had been piled up in rectangular fashion for setting things upon. He was about to put his sword away and start tossing the bricks aside when he heard heavy steps behind him and turned. A huge gnoll in unusually well- made and probably enchanted armor and a helmet, all suitably shaped for a gnoll, was coming down the hall from the next chamber, holding a dark metal double-ended double-sided halberd which gleamed with fire and ice at one end and acid and electricity at the other.  
  
"GRRRR!" the gnoll growled, "YOU DARE FACE GNAMESH IN HIS ABODE! YOU WILL PAY, WEAK HUMAN!" He swung the high end of his halberd at Onyx, who parried it with the end of Carsomyr. The gnoll then brought the lower end swinging around forward, and Onyx hopped over it as it swung by, then brought his huge sword down at Gnamesh and hit him on the head, but didn't get through his helmet. Instead of following through with his low swing, the gnoll simply brought the low end of his halberd swinging back the other way, and its back blade caught the human in the shin and sent electricity crackling through him. The cavalier felt his left foot go momentarily numb from the shock, but swung down with Carsomyr again and this time managed to crack through the gnoll's armor into his left shoulder and cause dark blood to spurt forth.  
  
Gnamesh responded by heaving the top of his halberd forward, bringing the top into the side of Onyx's neck. The blade was unable to pierce his armor, and the flames that leapt from the edge fizzled as they touched the cavalier. Onyx knocked the halberd back by pushing his blade against its handle, then swung Carsomyr in a quick half-circle down at the legs of Gnamesh, who managed to parry it with the lower half of his halberd just in time. No sooner had they clanged weapons than Onyx swung high again and Gnamesh came in with his top blade, and they clanged between each other's faces. Human and gnoll growled at one another across halberd blade and sword edge, and both tried to push but they were equal in strength. Onyx's growl gave way to a deep chant to Torm, and a column of light briefly enshrouded him and as it left, he pushed with renewed strength and sent Gnamesh stumbling back into the wall of the room. Onyx wasted no time in sticking Carsomyr forward and charging to impale his foe; and the gnoll braced his halberd shaft to intercept it. The tip of Carsomyr, however, just missed it and speared at Gnamesh's body as the edge of the holy avenger scraped along the shaft. Gnamesh tried to push his halberd sideways to knock the tip of Carsomyr away, but the cavalier in his imbued might would not have his weapon budged, and stabbed still true, impaling the gnoll upon the blade, and pushing it through the wall until it was buried in Gnamesh up to its hilt.  
  
"Humans are not weak," Onyx snarled, and looked Gnamesh in his eyes, which looked beastlike, but did have the glimmer of intelligence. Gnamesh tried to push forward with his halberd and knock back the cavalier, but his foe simply grabbed it and pulled it away from him, nearly tearing off his fingers in the process, and threw it across the room with such strength that it lodged in a wall. Onyx then pulled Carsomyr out of the wall and Gnamesh's chest, and the gnoll fell onto the floor with a gaping hole in his chest and dark red blood rapidly covering the floor around him.  
  
"You are one who not, I see," Gnamesh growled from the floor in pain, blood frothing out of his mouth. Onyx had a look of shock, not from the gore, but from the gnoll's grasp of common, even as he lay dying. "Why you here, human? Gold-hunting adventurer? I see your holy sword; you 'paladin.' You come wipe out gnolls? I can feel the pain of your 'holy avenger weapon' - it hurt me more for by beliefs. You think it 'righteous' to hurt me for beliefs? Think it noble to wipe out non-humans, human?"  
  
"No, Gnamesh, I'm here because you serve the Jeweler. I know this because your lair is the only entrance to his, and his minions must come and go through here."  
  
The gnoll seemed to squint as Onyx spoke, trying to cognize his words, and then he breathed and spoke. "All I know some come through pit, we guard their entrance, they give us food. Simple."  
  
"You are his minions, then," Onyx spoke.  
  
"Why you go where not wanted anyway? This gnoll home! Not human home! You come here and kill when you could stay in on human towns. You just like group that came last year, wiped most of us out! Someday, someday Gnamesh fear all places will be human towns, and no place left for gnolls. Then gnolls and orcs and other large beings will all be gone. Maybe you kill elves and dwarves and others too, leave only humans? That your way. You call us 'monsters', come kill us in own home because how we look different from you, even when we not come attack you. You the monster."  
  
"The gnolls of this stronghold can hardly be said to mind their own business. I have seen what you eat, or should I say whom. And I know of the group who came here last year, I was among them as well. And the only reason we stormed the stronghold was that you had taken a human captive. A dark-skinned lady in purple robes, I suspect you remember her?"  
  
Gnamesh gave a bored sigh, "We capture and eat trespassers. Shouldn't be here; this gnoll place. She probably just another meal."  
  
"Wrong. On our way to the stronghold last year, I remember coming across a lone gnoll. He told us he had been banished for trying to eat her; he said the rest were silly for not wanting to do the same. Someone wanted her alive. I want to know why, and I suspect you were on the chain of command."  
  
Gnamesh gave a low feral chuckle. "I remember witch lady now. Name Dy- na-heir. We get orders to send squad Wood of Sharp Teeth and capture her. Not know why, but we do as told."  
  
"Orders from whom!?" Onyx demanded.  
  
"Same as food-for-guarding. Man in black with katanas. Calls himself Saint. He said when and where she would be passing through woods. I not know how he knew. We ambush them and capture her, and wait for more orders from Saint, but you come first and rescue her too soon."  
  
"Why did he want her, Gnamesh? Why did he want her alive?"  
  
"I not know. Really I not care. You humans have too complicated concerns. Drag us into it. Make your problem everybody problem. Make us your problem. You think all gnolls problem. I say you weak, but I know truth. Humans very curious, clever, aggressive. Maybe good trait, but not for us. You are better than us, I know. Gnamesh is one gnoll smart enough to see. Some day the rest of us will all be gone. Only humans left. I lived good gnoll life. Much eating, battle, mating. I near death anyway; gnolls not live long. I happy to die; not want to live in future, in your world. Someday, only you remain. Your children many generations, famous paladin man, tell their children stories about monsters of old, stories their parents told them, about how you kill evil monsters. They not understand our world. But we understand, you human and I gnoll. We know that once, we were monsters."  
  
Gnamesh gave a final growling sigh and died. Onyx stood up, and quietly took off his helmet, and placed it over his left breast, and gave a solemn goodbye wave with his right hand. "It didn't have to be this way, Gnamesh," he whispered sadly to the carcass. "It wasn't supposed to be this way." He bit his lip and a few tears streamed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."  
  
Onyx began to take loose bricks from the collapsed doorway, digging his way out, but instead of throwing them aside, he carefully placed them over the body of Gnamesh, until he had covered the body in a burial cairn. He drew Carsomyr again, and upon the wall behind the Gnamesh's final resting place carved the words:  
  
He who fights monsters should take care that he himself does not become a monster.  
  
Words of some ancient philosopher, he could not remember the name, which Gorion been fond of repeating to him, after his training sessions, after his kobold-hunting romps.  
  
The other party members were busy tossing bricks aside with their hands, trying to open up the doorway and hoping Onyx was okay inside. Just then, a smashing sound could be heard from a section of the wall next to the collapsed doorway, and they stepped back in trepidation. The bricks were pulverized by an unseen force and fell outwards, many in pieces, and they could see Onyx's gauntleted fists shooting through them rapidly. After punching out a functional door with his hands, the superhumanly strong cavalier stepped through, dusting his gauntlets off on each other.  
  
"I'm fine," he held up his arms, "I think that was their leader inside."  
  
"Oh cool!" Buffy clapped her hands. "Sir Onyx killed the chief monster!"  
  
"He was no monster!" Onyx shouted at her, then silently apologized for shouting with an open palm, but it all seemed lost on the young undead hunter anyway.  
  
"Oh, so like, a man was leading them?" Buffy inquired, her words gummed by the smacking of her mouth as she chewed that weird stuff she never swallowed, but just chewed endlessly.  
  
"No, he.was a gnoll." Onyx sighed. Buffy looked thoroughly confused. "Never mind," Onyx finished, and Buffy just gave a weird shrug and the rest of the group seemed tactful enough to let it lie.  
  
"We have kicked the evil gnoll butts once again!" Minsc cried.  
  
"Minsc," Onyx's voice took on a serious tone, and he walked up to the ranger and put his hands on the man's shoulders, and stared up several inches into the large man's eyes. "Now, I need you to think carefully. Try to remember exactly how Dynaheir got here. Please."  
  
Minsc's face grew long. "Minsc does not like to remember these things.he failed his first witch twice.he hopes he does not fail his new witch."  
  
"So do I, big guy, so do I," Onyx nodded. That sure was true. Jaheira rolled her eyes. "But I need you to remember."  
  
"Well, gnolls came upon us in the Wood of Sharp Teeth, and took Minsc and Dynaheir by surprise! They bonked Minsc on the head and made his already bad headache worse, and when Minsc came to his witch was gone! Minsc learned to hate gnolls then, gnolls very mean! Then Boo said we should keep going, so we got to Nashkel and found you, great heroes to help, and then we began our quests to kick the various backsides of a diverse array of evils across Faerun!"  
  
"But why would they take her?"  
  
"Gnolls are nasty! They are mean and evil and eat people!"  
  
"While that's true; why would they take only her and leave you?"  
  
The Rashemanian scratched his chin. "Funny I did not think of this! Minsc is after all much more meat to eat! Perhaps he was too tough for their tastes?"  
  
"Minsc, why were you coming to the Sword Coast?"  
  
"To be Dynaheir's bodyguard and complete my dejemma! Onyx is being silly, he knows these things!"  
  
"No, no, why did Dynaheir want to come west in the first place? She told me once that great things were foretold for the Sword Coast; what was she talking about and how did she know? Why was she here?" Onyx cursed himself for not having pressed her further when he had the chance.  
  
"I do not know! It was not necessary for Minsc to know, only to guard his witch, which he did not do very well.. Minsc is so ashamed!."  
  
Onyx let go of the ranger's shoulders and turned away. The other party members could see he was deep in uneasy thought. Onyx looked up at their extremely curious faces and decided he owed a proper explanation. "Their leader in there.he was one who captured Dynaheir last year.and apparently the Saint was behind it.the lead gnoll said didn't know why."  
  
"Strange indeed," Jaheira nodded, "But there is only one way to find out more now." She looked pointedly at the boulder filling the pit. Onyx signaled to Minsc and the two men kneeled over opposite sides of the pit and grabbed the sides of the boulder. Each grunted and Minsc's fire giant belt began to glow as they pulled the boulder up inch by inch. They moved their hands around toward the bottom of the boulder as it came up out of the bit, then with a 1-2-3 shout both heaved the boulder to one side and the pit was free.  
  
"Well, here goes nothing," Onyx cleared his throat as he rose. "KLATOO, VERATA, NIKTO! HAIL TO THE KING, BABY!"  
  
At the utterance of the password, the scraping sound of stone-on- stone sounded from the bottom of the pit, and as the party members looked over its edge, they could see the floor beginning to move. It was sliding sideways, disappearing brick by brick into the wall of the pit, which could now be seen to go much deeper. The twisting staircase which had gone the ten feet to the floor of the pit now kept going, spiraling down, down into the darkness. Cold, clean air rushed up out of the pit and assaulted the party.  
  
"The last leg of our quest begins," Onyx stated and began to walk down the staircase, drawing out his sunblade Daystar to light the way as the other six party members followed one by one.  
  
**********  
  
13 FLAMERULE 1600 ATHKATLA - SOMEWHERE IN THE GOVERNMENT DISTRICT  
  
Dwein Seroindose laid asleep in his opulent chambers an uneasy afternoon nap, a courtesan on either side of him, mumbling to himself and wearing his precious amulet even in slumber. His amulet began to glow red, and though it emitted to heat and did not outwardly appear to disturb his sleep or his hired companions', he did suddenly fall into a most unpleasant dream.  
  
He stood in a dark room before a table, behind which sat eight figures in red robes, their faces obscured beneath their hoods.  
  
"Edwin Odesseiron, you progress displeases us," one spoke.  
  
"Are you going to fail us yet again?" inquired the second.  
  
"Your first mission was so simple, and yet you failed," hissed the third.  
  
"The Saint got to her first and took her alive. And still you couldn't get to her yourself," lamented the fourth.  
  
"Do you know how close the Wychalarn came to fulfilling her purpose?" moaned the fifth.  
  
"Be thankful that Joneleth Irenicus finished your job for you," chuckled the sixth.  
  
"You'll find no such dumb luck this time, do your job yourself," demanded the seventh.  
  
"Do not dare to fail, Edwin Odesseiron," threatened the eighth.  
  
The wizard awoke in a cold sweat. 


	15. A Doomguard and his Dove

15. A Doomguard and His Dove  
  
13 FLAMERULE 2000 CANDLEKEEP  
  
"Whew boy!" Imoen exclaimed as she strode out of the front doors of the Candlekeep library, flanked by her two best friends. "I don't think I've ever done that many hours of magical study in my life!"  
  
"Eight straight hours!" Nalia nodded and held her forehead tenderly. "My head feels like it's gonna explode!"  
  
"I don't HIC think I've ever drunken so many potions of genius in one day!" Aerie hiccupped while looking up at the night sky, the moon and stars blurred by hazy clouds.  
  
The three trudged tiredly around the side of the library, letting out unladylike potion-of-genius-scented burps as they headed in the direction of the Candlekeep Inn. [i]I'm gonna sleep like a log tonight, but I can't wait for tomorrow! [/i] Aerie thought to herself.  
  
"Same here!" Imoen laughed.  
  
"Pardon?" Nalia asked.  
  
"I just added, 'same here'," Imoen shrugged.  
  
"To what?" Nalia asked.  
  
"Aerie said she was gonna sleep like a log tonight and couldn't wait for tomorrow, and I said me too," Imoen looked perplexed.  
  
"No she didn't," Nalia scrunched her thin eyebrows and looked at Aerie, "Didya, Aer? Maybe I was just spaced out."  
  
"No, I didn't," Aerie looked confusedly at Imoen, "I was thinking about it though." A strange look, as of mixed disbelief and understanding, passed over the avariel's face.  
  
The three stopped in their tracks and looked at each other. [i]Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?[/i] Imoen thought.  
  
[i]We're thinking what you're thinking, [/i]they each thought.  
  
"Hey!" Aerie and Nalia both said aloud. "We.."  
  
"I guess you are," Imoen smiled. "You're literally thinkin' what I'm thinkin'!"  
  
[i]How come Imoen can hear Aerie and I can't? [/i]Nalia wondered.  
  
[i]Probably cuz I'm the smartest! Hee hee, just kidding. Prolly just cuz I'm in between you, [/i]Imoen thought while giggling aloud.  
  
[i]Huh? [/i]Aerie wondered, but just then Nalia walked around Imoen so that the three stood in a triangle. [i]Oh, Nalia is wondering why Immy could hear me but not her, [/i]she somehow decided the noblewoman was thinking.  
  
[i]Is this what it seems like? [/i]Imoen thought.  
  
[i]I think so, [/i]Nalia thought, and Aerie nodded. [i]I found a book this afternoon, before we got into the necromancy stuff. While you, Immy, were just showing Aer around on the fourth floor of the library and telling her that childhood anecdote about the time Onyx and Grom knocked over every single bookshelf on the fourth floor domino-effect style when an ill- conceived indoor play swordfight devolved into a wrestling match, I was browsing through the floor's texts on divination, and I came across this one about telepathy. [/i]  
  
[i]What did it say? [/i]Aerie wondered.  
  
Nalia recalled, [i]that an experienced mage will become able to read the minds of those around her. The potions of genius might have helped too, and that's why it's working so well all of a sudden, rather than beginning as a vague empathic ability to sense each others' moods. Apparently it's much easier with individuals she is closer too - personally I mean, although obviously physical proximity is important, as we saw just now. [/i]  
  
[i]Priests too? [/i]Aerie wondered idly. [i]I vaguely remember hearing something about this too. Maybe it was from Quayle. I think he brought it up as an example of the border between spheres, and schools, in this case divination and enchantment.[/i]  
  
[i]Yeah! [/i] Nalia smiled. [i] This book said all that too. It was cross-listed, actually. It said that with priests close range is more important, and physical touch helps, especially with druids.[/i]  
  
[i]Uh-oh[/i], entered Aerie's mind.  
  
"Hey, neat-o!" Imoen exclaimed out loud, tactfully changing the subject, and cocking her ear towards Candlekeep Inn ahead, "I hear music!"  
  
"Bad music," Nalia stuck out her tongue. "Sounds like a real rookie."  
  
"I kinda like it," Aerie sighed dreamily, looking up at the stars. "It's sorta romantic."  
  
The three girls resumed walking and strode in through the front doors of the establishment, to find the main floor tavern fairly crowded and abuzz, especially by Candlekeep standards. A sizable crowed was sitting around, some having to stand, and Winthrop was being kept busy at the bar making, serving, and refilling drinks, sweating profusely in the humid Flamerule night as he carried his girth back and forth behind the bar. Meanwhile, the eyes of the crowded room were fixed opon the stage, where a quasi-elven little blue-haired man was strumming a harp and singing, his many facial tattoos and piercings giving his countenance an especially exotic look in the dim light.  
  
"And as their quest wore on and on, And o'er nights they slept 'pon the road; Feelings stirred within the Bhaal-knight, Despite his hollow chivalric code! For he had back home a betrothed, you see, A wingless avariel to whom he swore he was true; But as he and the druid lady journeyed along, Emotions reawakened and passions grew. And then, it seems, as the circus drew near, And they were 'bout to attack the ringleaders brave, Did the paladin and druid consecrate, Their newfound love with acts depraved!"  
  
"Oh no,." Aerie went weak at the knees and her balance faltered, but her companions gripped both her arms and held her up. Three gentlemanly patrons at the table behind them, one of which Imoen recognized as Jondalar and greeted with a pearly grin, quickly ceded their seats. The two lady rogues helped their faltering friend into a chair and sat beside her.  
  
"And when these lovers found the circus at last, Did they engage in chivalric duel? No, like assassins, during a show of all times, They ambushed the poor bards and did things most cruel!"  
  
"Aerie," Imoen held her friend's hand gently while Nalia flagged down a waitress, "This is just the same thing Phyldia was talking about this afternoon."  
  
"And now that the knight has the Order's shame, For bloodthirsty acts (much like his dead daddy's goals!), His new druid lover too betrays her creed, By genocidal slaughter of a town of gnolls!"  
  
"Phyldia didn't mention a verse about that," Nalia arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, I like the tune well enough," Imoen frowned while a waitress served the trio glasses of wine, "But I can't say I like the lyrics."  
  
"Tell me about it!" Aerie sighed dejectedly and downed her drink in a flash.  
  
"Thank you, thank you, thank you very much, fine ladies of gents of such a picturesque town. My heart doth glow with warmth like a newly forged sword at such a warm welcome, and truly if this be as cultured a town as its scholarly nature should suggest, the fruits of such erudition are to be found flowing out of the library through the town like so many rivers of honey in the gardens of Elysium. Thank you!"  
  
Nalia smirked skeptically when she noticed that as the tiefling bard hopped down off the stage and waded through the congratulating audience, past burly, intoxicated patrons nearly ripping the small man's hand off when they shook it, past maidens and not-so-maidens almost literally throwing themselves at him, he was making a beeline for the three mages.  
  
He bowed theatrically as he came before them, causing the other two to giggle but Nalia to merely roll her eyes. Sardonically she decreed, "Your musicianship hasn't improved a drop since we last saw you, blade." The bard winced at this last word, and Nalia frowned pensively. [i]Neither has his face. A nose-ring? Eyebrow rings? And a bunch of new tattoos, I think. He sorta looks like that Xzar guy.[/i]  
  
[i]Xzar had those same clownish diamonds around his eyes, but not the stripes on his chin or cheeks? And no face-rings that I remember? [/i]Imoen wondered.  
  
[i]He did when Nal and I met him, [/i]Aerie thought. [i]Green hair, too. You're right, Nal, Haer looks uncannily like a blue-haired Xzar now. [/i]  
  
"Well, I liked that well enough, mister bard," Imoen, who had never met Haer'Dalis before, but had heard much about him, said aloud and smiled politely, "But.the knight you're singing about wouldn't happen to by my brother, would it?" The thief stared daggers at him.  
  
"Yes, please clarify things a little," Aerie frowned, while a jester hopped up onto the stage and began a stand-up comedy routine that met with mixed reviews.  
  
"First things first, my sparrow!" Haer'Dalis grinned broadly at stared lasciviously at Imoen, causing her to blush slightly, "I am Haer'Dalis, friend of your friends, actor and traveler, bard and adventurer, swordsman and magician, a sight both famous and rare across the Realms and indeed the planes, a whirling dervish of steel that delights as he fights, an amusing acrobat of the arcane that jokes as he invokes, a.."  
  
"Well I am the one and only Imoen!" the girl sang back, looking every bit as bubbly as the bard, indeed like she was trying to out-pep him, "A mischievous sneak at whom every guy wants to peak, a wonderful mage of a wonderful age, it would be quite tragic to cross this lady of magic, mayhaps a little sparrow but she'll fill you with arrows, a gal with pink- hair who's devil-may-care and possessed of great flare, ah, uh.you get the idea!" she giggled.  
  
"Quite," Haer'Dalis grinned, taking and kissing her hand. "Wonderful to make your acquaintance, my dear sparrow Imoen." The tiefling turned to the other thief-mage and reached for her signet-ringed hand. "Excellent to see you again, Lady de'Arnise." She withdrew her hand indignantly and the bard gracefully morphed his gesture into a regular bow. "And you, sweet dove Aerie," Haer turned to the avariel, who giggled and let him kiss her hand.  
  
"I've had enough; I'm turning in," Nalia stood and rolled her eyes, looking down at the short tiefling with dismissiveness. [i]See you guys up at the room soon I guess[/i], she thought with deliberate clarity as she looked pointedly at her two friends.  
  
"She can be a bit of a stick-in-the-mud," Imoen grinned at Haer as soon as the noblewoman was out of earshot up the stairs.  
  
"Yes, truly a pity, truly, why I.." Haer began but Aerie cut him off.  
  
"Now, what were you singing about?" she demanded, scowling.  
  
"Oh!" Haer'Dalis gasped with expertly acted disbelief. "Truly the most shocking new I've heard in so many a tenday! But I'm afraid there's really nothing to explain that wasn't in my song already," she shrugged with a faux-innocent grin.  
  
"B-but how do you know!?" Aerie asked and demanded, wavering between sadness and anger, even as the tiefling grinned behind his face of great concern.  
  
"I was there, I saw it all!" Haer'Dalis theatrically put the back of a hand to his forehead. "Truly, I could not have been more amazed if I'd seen the very demons of the Abyss tap-dancing with Tyr!"  
  
"You were there?" Imoen asked, exchanging skeptical glances with a very hurt-looking Aerie.  
  
"Why yes," the bard smiled, "Since I last crossed paths with your brother and lovely Aerie and the rest of them," the bard winked down at the avariel, who blushed, "I've just been traveling the planes with Miss Raelis and the troupe, you know, the usual, and we happened to be back in the Prime, doing a show in Beregost, and this circus rolls into down, so the troupe decides we as well as not shall go see it. Marvelous outfit, truly, I can assure you those rumors about them using slaves were totally unfounded, it turns out the cages are all just for the show and all the performers are quite happy and well-fed."  
  
"Oh really?" Aerie scowled skeptically at Haer'Dalis, her look of admiration for the bard having vanished from her face for the moment. "That's not what I heard..or remember." The avariel exaggeratedly scratched a nonexistence itch on her shoulderblades.  
  
"Yeah, we went through Beregost just yesterday on our way up from Athkatla," Imoen added, staring keenly at the bard, "Too bad we just missed Onyx's departure from there by less than a day. It was nice to see mayor Keldath Ormlyr again though.who sure had a lot to say about the former conditions of the freed circus slaves."  
  
"Well who am I to doubt the words of a politician," Haer'Dalis sighed with heavy sarcasm. With an air of superiority he added, "You'll find as you live, young girls, that things in this world are not so often as they first appear, especially when that first appearance is second-hand information or very old memories. I have the utmost sympathy for you, dear Aerie, and I must assume that the circus has turned over a new leaf since your terrible tenure there." The elven girl's look softened a bit as the tiefling continued. "But that is not truly the matter nearest your hearts, is it, my dears? For as I was going to next relate, I am afraid these astute and experienced eyes and ears took in more than the slaughter of an entire circus of mere fun-loving entertainers at the hands of a half-dozen misled and overzealous adventurers (blinded my their allegiances to Torm, Helm, Mielikki, Eldath, and the Harpers, it would seem) but also matters of much more personal importance to his lover and perhaps his sist-."  
  
".quit insulting my brother!" Imoen shouted out loud at Haer in a high-pitched voice. [i]I've had enough of this[/i], she thought to Aerie. [i]Sheesh! This guy is cute, but he's acting like an ass. No one talks about big bro like this! Or Minsc! Or Val! Or Jaheira - um, except you, I guess - heh heh! [/i]  
  
[i]Grrr!!!![/i]  
  
[i]You don't really believe this guy, do you?[/i]  
  
[i]Well no, but I think it's important to hear what he has to say all the same. If he's wrong I'd at least like to know how and why.[/i]  
  
[i]Maybe I should go join Nal upstairs. I'm just sticking around cuz I don't want to leave you alone with this oddball. Damn, he's so cute though! Why does he have to talk about bro like this!? If he would just spout random poetry or something..[/i]  
  
[i]You can go upstairs if you want, I'll be fine.[/i]  
  
"Hear me out! Hear me out!" Haer shouted, looking on quizzically at all the silent glances the two were exchanging. "You see, I'm afraid that after the carnage, the paladin and the druid retired to Feldepost's for the night; my troupe happened to staying there too you see, in fact we were holed up in our rooms, hiding and scared after watching the other band of entertainers get massacred. So you can imagine our fear when we could hear them in the next room, but fear soon turned to amazement as we heard the pair's bloodthirsty victory cheers (in the name of righteousness and the balance, of course) turn to the carnal noises of unbridled physical passion - squeaks, creaks, smooches, snooches .."  
  
"STOP IT!" Imoen shouted, much louder than her last interruption.  
  
".bumps, thumps, cries, sighs."  
  
"AAH!!!!" Aerie closed her eyes and put her hands over her ears, biting her lip and nearly crying.  
  
".burps, slurps, moans, groans."  
  
"QUIT IT!" the avariel screamed again, her normally fair face beet red.  
  
".smashes, crashes, howls, yowls."  
  
SLAP! Haer'Dalis was suddenly silenced by Imoen's open hand slapping the side of his face. The blade's neck turned easily with it, like a man who has been slapped many times and reflexively learned to roll with it. As quickly as he had moved with the slap, he snapped back straight with a smile.  
  
"Well, my dears," the tiefling began again, "It seems you desire I fastforward. To make matters short, we crossed paths at breakfast the next morning, downstairs at Feldepost's, and the cavalier's bard-bashing must have been sated, because he recognized and greeted me."  
  
[i]Well ain't that odd, given the terms you said they parted on, [/i]Imoen thought to Aerie.  
  
[i]Yep[/i], Aerie agreed, [i]on the other hand, that was about me I think, so if Onyx's heart really changed it might make sense that he'd be more amicable towards Haer. And besides, we only met him briefly, and Onyx isn't one to hold grudges. I'm more surprised he'd recognize him at all.[/i]  
  
".as did Jaheira, whom I noticed was breakfasting in a male paladin's tunic."  
  
[i]I thought you said Jaheira disliked this guy too? [/i]Imoen thought.  
  
[i]They got into an abstract ethical argument right off the bat[/i], Aerie recalled, [i]but then I remember Jaheira suddenly acting nice to him with a gleam in her eye. I think.[/i]  
  
[i].she saw him as a possible wedge?[/i]  
  
[i]Yep, and I think this guy, having a complementing angle, picked up on it too. I remember him then segueing out of his own philosophical tirade and returning her look. [/i]  
  
[i]Ya know, Aer, just between you and me, I don't think you were ever half as naïve as Nal and Jah said you were. [/i]  
  
[i]Sometimes I wish I were more so. If anything, I'm too paranoid. [/i]  
  
".And when I told Onyx I was bound for Candlekeep, he then wrote and gave me this." With the smug smirk of a gambler about to play his trump card, Haer'Dalis withdrew a sealed envelope from his pocket and handed it to Aerie.  
  
Tha avariel examined the wax seal, with Onyx's signature written through it, before opening. She, and Imoen peeking over her shoulder, began to read the message. It was written in the party's shared secret code, but the two quick-minded girls could understand it as they went.  
  
Decrypted, it read:  
  
[i]Dear Aerie, If you're reading this, then our old friend Haer'Dalis has found you in Candlekeep and has probably already told you that I have met him again here in Beregost and sent this along with him, and that the first leg of our quest has been successful. Nevertheless, I have some news I expect you will not like. Would you and Imoen have passed through Beregost sooner on your way to Candlekeep I could have delivered it in person, but I must now depart from this town myself for the next stage of the quest. Telling you in person would have been more honorable, but so too is giving you this news with utmost haste. The news, Aerie, is that Jaheira and I have fallen in love. Nay, we have always been in love, and I was simply too blind to see it before! But now that we have acknowledged and consummated that love, all illusions of my feelings for you have been dispelled. I'm sorry you had to find out like this, and for leading you along, but I cannot continue to betray my own heart, nor yours. I hope that we can remain allies and friends, and I will make sure that you and our ill-conceived child are taken care of. I'm sorry.  
  
Your friend, Onyx[/i]  
  
Her eyes wide and her mouth agape, Aerie could not have stood more still and silent if she'd been hit with a holding spell. The letter fell from her hands and floated to the ground.  
  
"Oh no." Imoen grew pale, and gripped the sides of the table. "I." her face began to scrunch up.  
  
[i]It's got to be a forgery[/i]! Aerie thought desperately to her friend. [i]It's got to! This isn't happening! [/i]She threw back a second glass of wine as if it were an antidote to some suddenly felt poison.  
  
[i]But it's in our code! It's Onyx's signature! And it sounds like him.[/i]  
  
[i]I know, it's terrible.it must be true then.[/i]  
  
"I'm sorry Aerie.I..I can't take any more of this." the girl from Candlekeep said aloud. She put her hands over her face and sprang up from her chair, and dashed across the crowded room and up the staircase Nalia had ascended earlier.  
  
"No.." Aerie nearly fell out of her chair, but Haer'Dalis conveniently managed to stoop and catch her in a classic pose, and the avariel buried her tiny face in his shoulder and began to sob uncontrollably.  
  
"Cry not, my sweet dove," Haer'Dalis cooed with thespian perfection, stroking her long blonde hair and silently licking his lips, "Perhaps, in the long run, it's better that way. For like all humans, his life and love could have been but a blink in an elven or tiefling eye, and paladins are well known to be most short-lived and short-sighted of them all."  
  
"Noo!!" Aerie cried and cried without regard for dignity, blowing her nose onto Haer's sleeve. "That's n-not how it's supposed to be," she babbled, her jaw quivering and the stutter she had once overcome returning. "It was supposed to be perfect. Onyx was a p-perfect gentleman, a perfect knight, a perfect hero, a p-perfect companion, a p-p-perfect lover, and he was going to be a perfect husband and father. This is like some h-horrible nightmare.oh, I want to wake up!"  
  
"There, there, lovely Aerie," the bard continued stroking her hair with a caring voice but an unseen grinning face, "You will learn that the world is a complicated but fascinating place where nothing is perfect, nor completely terrible. You have just woken up, you see, from a dream that might have seemed pleasant while it lasted, but, alas, was not meant to be; and I am sure that in time you will be the happier for it. And given that it was doomed, it is better that it ended now rather than later, all the sooner that you may find true happiness."  
  
"I had true happiness!" the avariel cried into the tiefling's soft shoulder.  
  
"Nay, twas but an illusion of feelings soon to be dispelled, pleasant though it may have seemed," the Doomguard sighed paternally, "You must learn to look forward, not back, my sweet dove, for only sorrow lies behind, but joy could lie ahead. Let us depart from this stuffy den of swine and walk amongst the stars, you and I."  
  
"O-okay," Aerie sobbed, and the bard hoisted her arm over his shoulders and snaked one of his own around her small waist. The tiny avariel girl stumbled along, the wine and the sorrow both having ample effects on her, and the tiefling led her outside in his able grasp, where he found them alone, and taking her to a nearby secluded corner on the outer wall of the town where bales of hay were stacked, sat down upon them and held her, spouting in a mesmerizing voice endless poetry and tales of many things, but often with themes of searching and tribulations before the eventual finding of happiness and love.  
  
**********  
  
"Nalia!" Imoen screamed as she burst through the doors of their room upstairs. "Oh, it's horrible."  
  
"What's wrong?" the adventuring noblewoman looked up from the letter she held in her hands with a face of concern.  
  
"Haer was.telling the truth..Onyx gave him a letter.." Imoen sobbed. She looked at the page in Nalia's hands. "Hey, is that the one from Valygar you keep rereading?"  
  
"Uh, yeah," Nalia's look of shock at the news melted into one of embarrassment, and she moved to fold it up, but Imoen had already bounded over to her and snatched it from her hands.  
  
"Give that back you little thief!!" Nalia's face contorted meanly as she stood up from her desk.  
  
"Shut up, rich girl!" the pink-haired girl shouted back, and Nalia was so taken aback by the outburst from her best friend that she stepped backwards as if struck. "Aren't you listening to anyone but yourself? This is important! The bard was right about Onyx and Jaheira! Haer bore a letter from him to Aerie! It had his signature, our code, everything, just like this letter from Val!"  
  
"So it is true then," Nalia gasped, her face long. "Our friend Aerie is betrayed. This.this is terrible. I'm so sorry for her." She bit her lip and looked up at the letter. "Give it back.please." she begged.  
  
"I'm not reading it, Nal," Imoen sighed, "I'm just make sure it all matches, that the code was right and..oh my god."  
  
"What?" Nalia asked, peering at Imoen and the letter she held.  
  
"The seal," Imoen snatched the letter's envelope off the desk where Nalia had been sitting, and tapped the broken wax seal with an index finger.  
  
"Yeah? Valygar signed through it, just like our protocol," Nalia looked confused.  
  
"Look closer," Imoen said. To Nalia's relief, she handed the letter itself back, and then held the envelope up, pointing to the seal. "Look at this seam in the wax. That means it was broken and melted back together. Notice that Val's signature, though continuous, is etched slightly thinner in the wax between the two places where it crosses the seam. That means that someone reconstructed the middle of the signature after breaking and resealing it."  
  
"Are you saying."  
  
"Your message was intercepted."  
  
"Oh my!" Nalia's face reddened. "Well, that's why we use a code. Anyway, it was personal, but it didn't really contain any valuable information."  
  
"It's almost 100 words long, so yes it did. The code." 


	16. A Harper and her Charge

16. A Harper and Her Charge  
  
13 FLAMERULE 2000 UNDERNEATH THE GNOLL STRONGHOLD - TUNNEL TO THE UNDERSEA PALACE  
  
The party was descending the long circular stairway that led down through the gnoll stronghold, down into the earth beneath. The stairway at one point ceased spiraling, and straightened out into a stairway leading diagonally further down still, pointing west, the direction of the Sea of Swords. The passageway was utterly dark, but Onyx at the head of the seven- strong party held aloft Daystar to light the way, and just behind him came Jaheira, using the white light of the cavalier's sword and the infrared light of his body to peer forward with her keener half-elven vision. Behind them came the shadowy Valygar Corthala and the mighty Minsc. The mountainous Rashemanian nearly filled the entire passageway, blocking Daystar's light from the rear three of the party. But next walked Buffy the Undead Hunter, holding her own sunblade Goldenedge aloft to light the way for herself and her sister in faith Dawn Raybringer. Behind the Lathanderian paladin and priestess came Arra Flyte, Harper Agent 006, swordswoman, sneak, and sorceress, easily able to follow with her elven eyes.  
  
"This is one of the many times I envy your infravision, Jaheira," Onyx muttered lightheartedly as they walked along.  
  
"I thought you had a ring?" the druid inquired, stepping up beside him.  
  
"Yeah, but my fingers are occupied, so to speak. And anyways, I've got you to keep a lookout for warm bodies for me," Onyx smiled at the half- elf.  
  
Jaheira gave an uncharacteristically bashful eyes-shut smile before rejoining, "Yes, but if this place is populated by undead and golems as we suspect, there won't be any save us."  
  
"There's the Jeweler himself," Onyx added. "Well, I've had enough of fighting living, breathing monsters for one day anyway."  
  
Jaheira nodded thoughtfully, as if she understood much more than he said. "It wasn't your fault," she spoke finally out of seeming nowhere.  
  
"Well, technically it was my blade that - wait," Onyx stopped as the oddity of her comment dawned on him, "What are you talking about?" he asked with a furrowed brow, though truly he knew.  
  
"You know what I mean, Onyx. Regretting killing Gnamesh; you had to," Jaheira said, then bit her lip and looked at him apologetically.  
  
Jaheira nodded in anticipating of the Onyx's following, "But I never told you I regretted it! Or his name! I-" the cavalier stopped as something else dawned on him. "But..I did...silently."  
  
"Yes," Jaheira nodded. "Sorry.I.couldn't help it."  
  
"I.could feel you in there, like I couldn't get you out of my thoughts," Onyx tapped his forehead, "I had thought it was just me unable to stop thinking about you," he tried to explain, drawing another smile from her. [i]But that's also true isn't it[/I], he thought to himself, and then suddenly noticed her try to hide her now wider smile. The cavalier looked at his feet, embarrassed, feeling naked. "I mean.nevermind," he said aloud. After an awkward silence, he added, "I.admire your powers. I admire what you've become, Jaheira." [i]Not that I haven't always admired you though[/i]. He cursed aloud as he could see her reactions to his thoughts on her face.  
  
"Thanks," she said aloud with chagrin.  
  
Onyx tried to stifle his thoughts of her, she noticed, and he turned them back to the gnoll chieftain he'd been thinking of before; of what Gnamesh had said to him. Onyx breathed deeply and thought about it with deliberateness, as if making his thoughts as clear as possible.  
  
[i]"Why you here, human? Gold-hunting adventurer? I see your holy sword; you 'paladin.' You come wipe out gnolls? I can feel the pain of your 'holy avenger weapon' - it hurt me more for by beliefs. You think it 'righteous' to hurt me for beliefs? Think it noble to wipe out non-humans, human?"[/i]  
  
[i]"Why you go where not wanted anyway? This gnoll home! Not human home! You come here and kill when you could stay in on human towns. You just like group that came last year, wiped most of us out! Someday, someday Gnamesh fear all places will be human towns, and no place left for gnolls. Then gnolls and orcs and other large beings will all be gone. Maybe you kill elves and dwarves and others too, leave only humans? That your way. You call us 'monsters', come kill us in own home because how we look different from you, even when we not come attack you. You the monster."[/i]  
  
[i]"You humans have too complicated concerns. Drag us into it. Make your problem everybody problem. Make us your problem. You think all gnolls problem. I say you weak, but I know truth. Humans very curious, clever, aggressive. Maybe good trait, but not for us. You are better than us, I know. Gnamesh is one gnoll smart enough to see. Some day the rest of us will all be gone. Only humans left. I lived good gnoll life. Much eating, battle, mating. I near death anyway; gnolls not live long. I happy to die; not want to live in future, in your world. Someday, only you remain. Your children many generations, famous paladin man, tell their children stories about monsters of old, stories their parents told them, about how you kill evil monsters. They not understand our world. But we understand, you human and I gnoll. We know that once, we were monsters."[/i]  
  
At length Onyx spoke aloud. "Gnamesh, himself, was evil. I needed no divination powers to tell me that. Still though, I did respect him." He showed her the memory of how he'd given Gnamesh a proper cairn burial. "And in the end, I heed not the messenger, but the message, and I believe he spoke wisely. Jaheira, do you remember one of our first fights together - we had just come south from the Friendly Arm Inn, past the milestone which pointed west toward Candlekeep, the way Imoen and I had come, and continued south. Just after that, in the low cliffs before Beregost, we came across a camp of xvarts. They had a hearth, and a fire, it was their camp and their home, but we killed them. Then the same again on the way west, one of first trip to the gnoll stronghold, ironically, again. I remember the words of the one there. 'You kill us when we do nothing to you! You monster!' Now, it's true that in both cases, and the many others, they attacked first; did xvarts or gibberlings or kobolds or tasloi or any of them ever not attack us on sight? And yet, if it was their land, or their home, and we were trespassers - though I know not how we would determine such things in the wilds - then perhaps, we were at fault; perhaps it was we who were the monsters."  
  
Jaheira smiled wider than she ever had before. Without even realizing it, she reached out to hold his hand, and only in the nick of time consciously thought better of it and drew away, even though she couldn't help noticing that perhaps the cavalier's hand had just done made the same maneuver. "You show much wisdom, dear Onyx," she said happily. "It warms my heart to hear you thinking of such things. I can see in your words - and between them, in your thoughts, which it gladdens me to no end to feel you wanting me to know - that you uphold those concerns dear to myself, but in a way consistent with those of your own stated ethos."  
  
The cavalier thought carefully. [i] Whence comes the charge of a paladin? The defeat of evil - be it containment, conversion, or destruction - is a means, not an end. The end is the defense of the innocent. The defense of rights. It is equal to the moral obligations of a state, and shares the same moral boundaries as well. There are two confusions to be made, the first commonly differentiates paladins and druids, with rangers lying usually somewhere in between, the second occurs easily within each ethos; and that is the confusion of rights and privileges. A paladin will often confuse them when he allows a thief to steal in the name of desperation or hunger - letting entitlement become a right. A druid will often confuse them when she destroys one thing to make space or food for another, which she believes is the more embattled or endangered, once again letting entitlement become a right. The two examples are indeed actually the same example, for the only difference between them, is the choice of an example between demihumans or other, 'lesser' beings, and that is the distinction that brings us back to the first confusion. This is to be found in what the paladin includes in his definition of the innocent, or a druid in her definition of nature. The paladin who does not include, say, a bear as an 'innocent' because he extends rights only to 'higher' beings will then so no harm in what is done to the bear, for it has no rights. The druid will make the symmetric distinction when she does not include demihumans in her definition of 'nature,' and thus see no need to protect them. Of course, she may say that they are, and that she is only trying to balance the rights, possessions, or numbers of demihumans to those of other, less successful creatures, but often that will in fact be her making the first confusion; for it is the course of nature that some things will be more productive and proliferate more than others. The cause of the second confusion, then, turns out to be what differentiates almost any two conflicting creeds: that each is defined by whom they are trying to help, a subclass of beings at the expense of others, and otherwise there is little different between them. [/i]  
  
[i]I want us to get along, Jaheira,[/I] Onyx now thought directly to her. [i] Philosophical differences shouldn't stand in our way.[/i]  
  
Swinging his empty left hand forward again as he walked, Onyx showed no signs of surprise as it met Jaheira's and they clasped, nor as he found he could now hear her thoughts as well, even through their gauntlets. [i]If we 'speak' of this much longer[/i], Jaheira thought, [i]we may find we have no differences at all. You show much wisdom for your age[/i]. Jaheira then bit her lip. Their age difference, several human generations, was not something she liked to deliberately bring up, but it so was much easier to inadvertently think of such things Then Jaheira sighed as she realized that thought he could hear this too. Her next thought was to gain a greater appreciation for the vulnerability she now joined him in feeling.  
  
[i]Thank you[/i], Onyx thought in response to her first thought, and Jaheira was relieved that he didn't seem to be dwelling on the later ones.  
  
[i]We're the same reverse-age though, almost. You're a superhumanly healthy young man, barely out of your teens, I'm a half-elf of middle age, we will from here out age much the same. In other words, we will grow old together.[/i] Jaheira blushed an uncharacteristic rose red. That was a thought she'd had a number of times, but never shared until now.  
  
[i]You're right, you know, I've thought of that too[/i], Onyx rejoined in spite of himself, and more Jaheira-centric thoughts began to pour into his mind, the sorts of thoughts that are memories of previous thoughts. Jaheira found that their physical touch made the link far more acute from her side too, and in the space of a few seconds the greater part of the thoughts, designs, dreams, and fantasies that the cavalier had ever had regarding her poured into her mind. If the steps they trudged down had not been so regular, she would have surely lost her footing as her mind was taken far away from her physical surroundings and led through some of the most intimate recesses of the young man's psyche.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said aloud and suddenly withdrew his hand, just in the middle of a particularly private but enjoyable recalled thought, and turned his mind forcefully to the steps in front of his feet, severing her journey through his mind. "I can't go on with this." But he offered no further explanation, either aloud or thought, keeping his mind on other, irrelevant things.  
  
"I'm sorry too," the druid sighed and looked at his face with a look that showed both guilt and pain, "You..don't have to hide. I shall turn my mind away from yours, as well as I can help."  
  
"It's fine," the cavalier exhaled apologetically and met her gaze, but said and thought no more on the matter.  
  
Incidentally, they had finally come to the last step. From the end of the stairwell of natural stone shot forward a level hallway of very smooth carved marble, which had a faint greenish hue. What should have been a hallway as utterly dark as the stairwell was not without light though, even beyond that of the two young paladins' sunblades. Though the marble didn't quite seem luminescent, there seems to be some sort of sourceless light, matching the greenish tint of the marble, now in the air, but as the party continued down the hallway, it grew also ever colder.  
  
At last they came to a truly breathtaking sight. The walls and ceiling of the hallway turned from marble to a clear crystal, very nearly like glass, and through them the party members could see the ocean itself. They could see also the underwater land, and see that their hallway was a sort of tube that shot out of the side of the land, deep underwater, and continued through the ocean. Far ahead in the gloom, they could see that this tube connected to others, and Arra with her keenest vision could make out the shape and structure of the undersea palace. It was not a solid building by any means, but an enormous weave of free-floating chambers, hallways, and stairways, running around and connecting to each other, but with empty ocean between parallel hallways and levels of the palace, which was made like their hallway all of clear crystal and greenish marble. It was almost like a mass of coral on a giant scale; though of mostly straight lines and right angles.  
  
The party was awed at the otherworldly beauty of the sight, but marched forward still, and at last came to the branching hallways of the palace, which were like tubes shooting around through the ocean and connecting to each other here and there. They made mostly-arbitrary choices at each juncture, keeping mental maps and with Arra scribbling a written map along as they went.  
  
"Funny we have seen nothing yet," Valygar remarked, "The Skald said there were lots of golems and undead about, but we've seen not a soul."  
  
".literally," Dawn added with a warm laugh.  
  
The others nodded in silent agreement, and soon the party came to a stairwell. Like the hallways, the stairway was of greenish marble and the walls and ceiling over it of clear crystal, and it seemed disjoined from the rest of the palace except where it began on the top floor. It seemed to go down diagonally past other levels of the palace, to which the party members could see no apparent route, and they could also not see its end either by looking right down the stairs or through the water.  
  
"Perhaps we'll see more company on the lower floors," Onyx remarked. "Might as well proceed, we'll have to find a way down somehow," he shrugged, and took a step onto the stairs. No sooner had he planted his other foot on the second stair, however, than a click was heard within the marble stairwell. Immediately, every stair in unison swiveled downwards, and what once had been a jagged stairway was now a smooth diagonal marble ramp. "Whoa-oa!" the cavalier gave a shout as his feet slid out from under him. He crashed onto his back on the ramp, and before he could reach overhead to grab the ledge of the hallway the rest of the party was on, his smooth dragonscale armor immediately sent him sliding down, down, to what end none of the others could see.  
  
"Onyx!" Jaheira shouted in upset anger, running to the edge of the ramp and peering over, "Onyx!!!!"  
  
The other party members stood in stony silence, looking at and past her to where the cavalier had disappeared. Jaheira sniffled once and then spun around, staring angrily at the other five remaining members. "Well don't just stand there like simpletons!" she shouted at them. "We've got to follow him!"  
  
"Not until we know into what," Arra responded calmly.  
  
"It's your fault, you little thief!!" Jaheira screamed and stared her down. "It was you job to be looking out for little traps like this, with your oh-so-great purebred vision!"  
  
"Well, he didn't exactly give her a chance before bounding cavalierly down the stairs," Valygar shrugged in the elf's defense.  
  
"I'm sorry nonetheless," Arra met the other Harper's gaze impassively, "But there's no need for insults."  
  
"There is for action!"  
  
Arra responded methodically, "Yes, but if we look for another route to wherever he's gone to, rather than jumping into the same trap, we have much better chances of ever rescuing your dear cavalier."  
  
Jaheira grew livid at the elf's wording, her mouth quivering as if she were barely able to hold back something harsh (even by her standards). Instead, she wordlessly spun around toward the ramp again, nearing whacking Arra in the face with the scimitar hilts sticking up over her shoulderblades, and stepped to the very edge of the ramp. She craned her head around and looked back at her companions out one long-lashed eye, then turned to face the ramp.  
  
"Don't, J!" Valygar cried, dashing past his other companions toward her with his hands outstretched. "It could be certain death!"  
  
"Wherever it is, I'll be with him," she only said. A mere moment before Valygar grasped her, she hopped off the edge of the ledge, landing on the ramp on her feet, which were quickly pulled out from under her just like Onyx's had been, and slid down on her thighs and butt after him down the ramp.  
  
"That fool!!!" Arra screamed and pulled her own hair. She looked at Valygar as he stared dumbly at his empty hands. "I thought you said she was always the voice of caution and wisdom in your party!"  
  
"I thought that too," the stalker shrugged hopelessly.  
  
"Minsc and Boo will not abandon their good friends!" came a boisterous cry from behind them. "Where paladins and druids go, so will rangers and hamsters! They had best leave clear a patch of evil's behind where Minsc can plant his boot upon!" A squeak issued from the ranger's pocket, and he continued, "Ah yes, and room for the incisors of Boo!" Yet another, higher-pitched squeak rejoined it, and Minsc added "And Bebe!" With that the enormous man took a stride off the end of the ledge, but instead of being swept onto his own decidedly non-evil butt, began tumbling head-over-heels down the ramp. "Oof.ouch.oh..Squeak!!!..." the sounds of the ranger crashing down the slide at increasing speed echoed back up to the remaining four adventurers.  
  
"Hey wait!!" Buffy ran to the edge and shouted after him. "You still have my purple eyeshadow, Minsc! I need it back! Aaah!!!" the young undead hunter squatted down at the top of the ramp, hesitantly stuck her legs down it, and with a push from both her gauntleted palms went sliding down after the still-audible ranger. Her voice also echoed back up, "This.wind.is.bad.for.my.haaair..."  
  
"Lathander help us," Dawn sighed and fastened her morning star at her hip, "Gotta take care of my adopted kid sis. And Onyx too." With that she repeated Buffy's motions and soon was sliding down after her.  
  
Valygar looked down the ramp impassively for a second, then spoke in his usual stoic manner. "What the hell, my cursed bloodline needs to die out sooner or later," he sighed and with an athletic leap flew through the air onto the ramp, landing with his legs straight and his arms at his sides, and slid down with impressive speed.  
  
Arra looked around at the now-deserted hallway. She looked down over herself. Her elven frame was thin but muscular, sculpted but not shapely, female but not feminine. She rubbed her elegant but scarred face and let out a lonely sigh. "Fuck you, Anomen Delryn, and you, Jarek Bond, and all the rest I go on endless goose chase after goose chase with, for some larger, abstract Harper causes, never coming out on the other end with anything to show for it. Or anyone." Like someone about to walk to a welcome death, she strode off the end of the ledge, deftly and nonchalantly pulled her legs together in midair and landed ready to slide on the ramp, and shot down into the darkness leaving no one behind.  
  
For minute after minute the elf slid down the smooth marble ramp, clear crystal walls zooming by on either side and showing the ocean around her. It was nighttime far above on the surface of the sea and the land, and no sunlight pierced the water, if it would to this depth anyway, but she could make out the soft red glow of warm-blooded sea creatures in the water around her, many of them swimming together in schools; looking with her infravision like clouds of bright red stars moving together in unison. As the minutes passed and she kept sliding by, she gave another lonely sigh.  
  
At last something other than darkness became visible down the steep ramp ahead of her, and she could make out a number of large glowing red bodies piled up below. She tried to lean back and press her arms and back against the smooth ramp to slow herself down as best she could, but it was to little avail.  
  
"Oompf!" she cried as she crashed into Valygar's back at a harmless but uncomfortable speed, crowning a large pile of adventurers. She looked around. Jaheira was standing before them, apparently having gotten out of the way. A good thing, as the enormous Minsc had been the one crashing down behind her. The Rashemanian ranger and the Lathanderian paladin and priestess, however, were buried under Valygar and herself.  
  
"Well that wasn't sooo bad," Arra, greatly relieved by the seemingly harmless end to the ride, laughed with an agile hop off of the pile, landing on her feet at Jaheira's side.  
  
Jaheira scowled fire at her. "I thought you were the brainy one.or perhaps all the fighting and thieving leaves no room for much upstairs," she glared rudely. "You don't notice anything - or anyone - missing?"  
  
Arra rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the insult. She looked around. The ramp ended, spilling into a wide window-walled chamber that spread out interminably far in one direction. Through the crystal in the wall behind them, she could see the diagonal tube they'd slid down, and also the ocean around it and to either side. The adjacent sides were fairly wide apart, like in a large banquest hall, but as he gaze followed them she saw that the chamber stretched away out of sight in the fourth direction. Though the air here still had the faint sourceless light, it was not bright, and she could not see nearly as far down the long chamber as her elven eyes should have been able to. But the salient point, she realized, was that no one else was around. She finally answered, "Oh - Onyx."  
  
"Very astute, oh cunning mage," Jaheira nodded with heavy sarcasm. "I believe he is below us. As I was sliding down, I saw a motion far below me. A marble slab slid out of this floor to meet the stairwell-turned-ramp, blocking me from sliding further," She indicated to a seam on the floor around the bottom of the ramp, and Arra nodded. "As it shut right in front of me, I believe it let Onyx slide further to some lower floor, and then caught the rest of us on this level."  
  
"But what could the Jeweler possibly want with him?" Arra frowned.  
  
"Well, we could have asked the same of Irenicus," Jaheira smirked haughtily, "but he did."  
  
"But he's no longer a Bhaalspawn, yes?" Arra asked.  
  
"Perhaps the goal is simply to split us up one at a time," Valygar suggested as he crawled off the heap, Dawn and Buffy groaning as he regretfully kneed and elbowed them in the process.  
  
"Or perhaps it wasn't him, but something of his," Arra mused.  
  
"Hey I think I know!" came a shout from where Minsc lay on the floor, but it didn't sound like the ranger (nor his amorous hamsters).  
  
"Lile?" Jaheira arched an eyebrow. "Grim is the hour when we turn to you for wisdom."  
  
"I've actually known some very intelligent talki- er, sentient swords in my time," Arra laughed. "Mostly moonblades though."  
  
"Well, Lilacor hardly qualifies as sentient, much less intelligent," Jaheira laughed back, her misdirected anger finally melting. "Definitely talking, though!"  
  
"Hey!" Lilacor shouted indignantly from Minsc's back as the massive ranger got to his feet. "Just because my friends tricked me into attacking a tree once..oh, nevermind! The point is - hey, Val, you were with Onyx when you interrogated the Skald, you remember what I'm talking about!"  
  
Valygar averted Jaheira's scornful gaze at this reminder, and said, "Yes, you mean archaic flame-sword? The Skald did say someone was looking for it."  
  
"Oh, stow the elaborate theories," Jaheira sighed. "Does any of this really matter to our current predicament? The point is, we've got to try to work our way down through this aquatic eyesore of an underwater castle and find Onyx, as well as the Jeweler."  
  
"Speaking of which," Dawn spoke up, "I'm surprised we haven't seen any of his minions."  
  
Right on cue, a booming sound could be heard from down the hallway.  
  
Buffy smacked her forehead. "Like, who didn't see that coming?"  
  
Arra squinted down the wide chamber. "Yep. Hard to make much out in the dim, but I see a row of big lumbering creatures. Look like they're made out of some sort of stone, maybe the same marble as the floors."  
  
"Golems," Valygar scowled and gnashed his teeth, "Cursed magic-made abominations." He lifted one shoulder, pulled his mana longbow off his back along with an orange-tipped arrow, and strung it. "Blast 'em all,"  
  
"She could have lent it to you, Val, but Aerie just had to keep Crom Faeyr, didn't she," Jaheira sighed, reaching over her shoulder and pulling the rod of smiting off her back. "By Eldath, how I hate that little bitch." She swung the golem-destroying quarterstaff through the air, and some of her companions found themselves wondering whether it was the constructs or the avariel that she was picturing herself whacking.  
  
"Say no mean things about our witch!" Minsc cried with indignation, and and two agreeing squeaks issued from his pocket, "She is nice and sweet and loves to hammer evil heads almost as much as Minsc!"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, sorry Minsc," Jaheira verbally apologized.  
  
"I see some man-sized shapes coming up behind them," Arra peered down the hall, "Not getting any infrared from them either; probably undead."  
  
"Yes," Dawn confirmed, "I can sense the negative energy."  
  
"I can make them out now," Arra added. "Ghosts. A few vampires, too."  
  
"Vampires!" Minsc cried. "Vampires are mean! Minsc and Boo hate vampires. They hurt poor little Aerie too! Minsc will stomp on them, and kick out their fangs with his great boots, and pound their cold bodies with his great maces, and push wooden stakes through their still hearts with his great hands, and.." He yanked the strongarm longbow of his back and strung a red-tipped arrow in it.  
  
Buffy reached for the crossbow at her belt and loaded a similarly- colored bolt, and then began yammering protection from evil spells upon each party members with a strange slangish air, while Dawn and Arra concentrated and began chanting preparatory spells of their own.  
  
"Who needs negative plane protection?" Dawn asked with eyes of concern as she glanced around at the other party members.  
  
"I've got an amulet," Jaheira informed her.  
  
"Ditto," chorused Arra Flyte and the eight mirror images surrounding her.  
  
"I've my runehammer," Valygar said boredly as he stared down the shaft of his drawn arrow at the oncoming force.  
  
"Minsc has a very nice mace of disruption! Found in the lair of a very mean vampiress. Boo says it is funny that a vampire would keep such an item around. Perhaps Bodhi was dropped on her head a lot as a child."  
  
"Like, ditto! I've totally got one too."  
  
Dawn shrugged and protected herself, then began bestowing a number of Lathander's other blessings and boons upon the party. She then exchanged glances and nods with Jaheira and Arra.  
  
Nearly in unison, the cleric, and druid, and the mage each began chant much harsher-sounding spells, and then cast forth each a fiery orb. They sailed through the air, and landed equally-spaced just behind the front line of advancing monsters. Three enormous clouds of fire blossomed from the opposing ranks. The marble golems continued marching as impassively as ever, but the ghosts wailed in terror as magical flames licked at their ethereal forms, and most of them disappeared. Two fireballs followed these up a rep-tipped arrow and bolt flew from Minsc's bow and Buffy's crossbow and landed among them. At the same moment, Valygar's orange-tipped arrow sunk into a golem and the creature exploded into stone shards.  
  
"I am Sunnis, Prince of Earth!"  
  
The enormous prince of the earth elementals sprang to life just in front of Jaheira, and a deva and a planetar soon appeared to either side, in front of Dawn and Arra. As the three extraplanar beings marched forth at the oncoming horde of enemies, more missiles and spells whizzed past their heads. Sunnis began pounding a stone golem with his enormous rocky fists and the deva and planetar engaged the constructs on either side of him with glowing swords. More golems marched around them, as the interspersed ghosts fell under fire spells and holy smites, and soon came close to the line of warriors. At last Valygar tossed his longbow onto his back again and reached for the two hammers at his belt. Screaming with uncharacteristic emotion, he charged forward with his large mallets raised high, leapt into the air, and came down smashing them on the front of a marching stone golem, causing cracks to radiate across the stone being's body moments before it shattered. The one to its left splintered as Jaheira brought her quarterstaff down upon it in a two-handed overhead swing.  
  
From far behind the melee and fireworks, down the chamber, echoed an evil, haunting female voice with a thick Thayvian accent. "Vladimir dear, I told you zat if ve vanted zis done right...,"  
  
"..yes, yes, Natasha, zat ve'd have to do it ourselves. Spare me ze told you so's," came a similar male voice.  
  
In between spells, Dawn looked up in awe as she could now see, floating forward above the marching golems and floating ghosts, a pair of vampires. Both had flowing red capes whisping around them, despite the utter lack of wind in the chamber, under which glimpses of archaically- styled red clothing could be seen, and above which popped pale-faced and black-haired heads. One was a bearded man's face, the other a long-haired woman's, but Dawn didn't have to be cleric to be able to tell they were vampires.  
  
"Look on ze bright side, dear," Vladimir continued, "Ze more formidable ze adventurers, ze better ze meal zey make, I always say. Ah ah ah ah!"  
  
"Very vell," Natasha sighed as she continued floating forward alongside her undead partner, "But I call dibs on ze two elven ones! "  
  
As if protesting, Arra cast a swarm of magic missiles up at her, joined by physical missiles from Minsc and Buffy, but they all glanced off the vampiress, who laughed merrily. "Tsk, tsk, children," she taunted, "you obviously haven't learned your history - of ze Count and Countess, Vladimir and Natasha Dlakura! Ve vere powerful vizards in life, among ze founders of Thay. Zen, vile our colleagues became disgusting liches to extend zeir lives, ve found a much more.delicious.calling - vampirism!"  
  
"Ah ah ah ah!" Vladimir laughed along with her. They both bared their fangs, turned horizontal in the air, and began to fly forward at a much higher speed with their claws outstretched and their capes flaring. Dawn issued a Lathanderian epithet that caused undead-repulsing waves of energy to emit from her very body, and the two vampires began flying backwards with visible dismay.  
  
While Valygar, Jaheira, and the summons continued shattering their way through the oncoming golems and the occasional ghost who had survived the fiery assault, Buffy cast a holy smite up at the vampires but they feigned back even further back, riding the repulsion waves to avoid it, and Arra grabbed two wands of spell striking from her belt. Holding one in each hand, she blasted them up at the vampire couple, sending pierce shield spells at them. She twisted each one around in her head, and then fired a pair of breach spells.  
  
"Curse her! She has dispelled my favorite abjurations!" Vladimir muttered from one side of the wall, keeping as far as possible from the repulsion waves as he tried to fly back up the chamber toward the adventurers.  
  
"Oh, shut up you fool," Natasha shot back from across the chamber, where she was doing the same upon the opposite wall. Then she yelled something incomprehensible and held her palms forward together, and the yellow-white orb of a power word stun shot from them and beelined across the chamber.  
  
"Take zat, veak elfling!" Vladimir laughed as Arra Flyte froze midchant. "Ah ah ah ah!" He was stopped midlaugh, however, when Buffy's bolt sunk into his chest and a small plume of flame issued from the wound. "Ack! I no like fire! Take zis, succulent adventurers!" He began chanting, and a fiery gate opened just over the heads of Minsc, Buffy, and Dawn. A large and rather irate looking pit fiend stepped through, but as he dropped to the ground, he looked around in confusion, staring right through the adventurers.  
  
"Good work, Buf!" Dawn whispered to the undead hunter, and the teenaged girl smiled back while hooking her crossbow to her belt and drawing out longswords, her sunblade and a holy avenger, in each hand.  
  
"HEEEEEEEEEEY DEMONFLESH!!!!!!!!!!!" Lilacor shouted with glee as Minsc held the (semi-)sentient sword aloft and then brought it down right in the ugly face of the fiend. It snarled and reached toward the offending weapon with its large claws, but then snarled again when Buffy's longswords sank into its back. Yanking his now-dripping-with-dark-demon-blood greatsword out of the fiend's face and beginning a fast spin, Minsc whizzed around once with his blade and sliced open the demon's throat, then on his next spin plunged it deep into the beast's chest, twisted it, and pulled it out with a beating leathery demon-heart impaled on the blade.  
  
"GET THIS OFF ME! IT TASTES TERRIBLE!" Lilacor protested, and Minsc complied by swinging Lilacor and sending the still-beating organ through the air, which seemed to be pumping fire as well as blood, and thus conveniently burned an advancing ghost into nothingness upon "impact" with said uncorporeal being.  
  
A warning squeak issued from within Minsc's armor, and Dawn shouted in common "Minsc watch out! She's coming down on you!"  
  
Minsc quickly pulled his arms back over his head and stuck Lilacor in the large sheath on the center of his back, but just as his hands shot down to reach for the two maces at his belt, the vampiress was upon him. Her red cape flew wide and she landed right on his chest, wrapping her pale legs around his waist, stabbing into his breastplate with her claws, and then moving her head hungrily down at for his neck. Flexible chainmail ran down the area between his helm and shoulderplates, but the vampiress's long fangs pierced the mail as she bit, and Minsc wailed a deep but terrified cry as she began to make ghastly sucking noises.  
  
Dawn motioned to cast some sort of spell, which surely would have helped him or hurt her, but she never got the chance. Vladimir had sent a flock of magic missiles from his fingertips as he sailed through the air, and they slammed straight into the rosy disk emblem on her chest and sent her sprawling to the floor. The vampire landed just over her and bared his fangs and claws, but then let out an "OMMVVVPPP!" as the mace of disruption that Buffy now held instead of her holy avenger smacked the back of his head and sent him sprawling to the floor himself.  
  
"Better luck next time, little girl, I live yet!" he laughed as he sprang to his feet again and faced her. "Vell, not 'live' in the literal sense, you know, but..ah nevermind." he trailed off as he dodged a swing from Buffy's sunblade and came back with a swipe of claws that raked across the side of her (very stylish) helm. "Tell me dear," he began as he feigned back from the next swing of her mace and then made another swipe, "I don't suppose you're just letting the fact zat I'm a vampire and you are an undead hunter stand betveen us. I couldn't help noticing how very stylish and shapely your breastplate is.."  
  
"Shut up, you creepy old.creep!" Buffy snapped at him, and managed to score a hit across his forearm with Goldenedge.  
  
"Yes, do shut up, you lascivious buffoon," Natasha looked up from Minsc's bleeding neck to snap at her undead husband.  
  
Vlad looked peevishly at his wife. "You seem to be getting pretty cozy vith that muscular fellow yourself!"  
  
"You're just a dirty old man!" Buffy brought his attention back their own fight with a clang of her mace on his claws.  
  
"A few thousand years old, my dear!" he laughed in stride, and managed to slash through her gauntlet and draw blood just after her next swipe with her sword fell short.  
  
Minsc groaned as Natasha pressed herself against him and drained his life, and stood weak and dumb, but then a series of desperate hamsterish squeaks came from within his armor. Groaning, he reached down with his right hand, and managed to find and grasp the handle of the mace of disruption that hung there.  
  
"Bleh!" Natasha spat with disgust and fell backwards off him, "Your blood stinks ov holy vater!" She wiped her bloody lips with the back of her pale hand, but as Minsc swung the mace down at her, she did a graceful backwards roll and sprang to her feet again, slashing at his helm with her claws. The ranger grabbed Stormstar from his belt with his left hand, and swung it quickly up into her stomach, sending electricity through her. "Ieieieieieieieie!" her mouth chattered and her long black hair suddenly stood on end.  
  
"Boo says now you look more like the Bride of Flangenstein than Countess Dlakura!" Minsc laughed at the frazzled undead woman.  
  
"Silence, big dumb Rashemanian man!" she hissed at him, gnashing her fangs and swinging her claws. "Flangenstein vas Thayvian too!"  
  
As they continued to circle each other, making swings with claw and mace, so did Vladimir and Buffy. Dawn Raybringer got to her feet, chanting a healing spell to recover from the magic missiles, but before she could cast a spell to assist her embattled comrades, she heard a sliding noise behind herself.  
  
She turned to see a dark figure sliding down the ramp that her party'd come down earlier. The figure, which seemed to be a ponytailed woman clad in shapely purple leather, sprang nimbly off the bottom of the ramp to her feet.  
  
"Greetings, priestess of Lathander," the woman laughed dissonantly in a voice that was musical like Dawn's, but seemed attuned to a minor key. She tapped the dark sun emblem on her chest. "I am an assassin of Cyric. Shall we dance?" With that she swiftly grabbed a black whip that hung at her belt, and before Dawn could finish a spell, had struck with it, disrupting the cleric with a rap on the right hand that caused the morning star to fall from her grasp.  
  
The priestess calmly reached to the white whip at her own belt and grasped it. "We shall," she answered. She swiftly whipped it at her opponent, who blocked the flicking tip with the buckler she had drawn in her left hand.  
  
The cleric and the assassin circled, whipping at each other, but dodging with feign and step or blocking with buckler and shield. Bucki Ryder spun around, trailing her whip in a wide sweep along the floor, and the end wrapped twice around Dawn's ankle. The thief then tugged her weapon and pulled her adversary's foot out from under her and sent her sprawling to the floor. Dawn's previous strike went astray, but she swung her right shoulder around in its socket and managed to pull her whip around in a circle and then strike forward again, and it wrapped around her opponent's neck. The assassin gave a choked cry and Dawn pulled hard, causing her to trip over her own whip, which was pulled taught against Dawn's ensnared ankle, and fall onto the ground right next to her. The cleric wasted to time in deftly flicking her wrist several time to catch several more loops around the thief's neck, then pulled hard, causing her muscles to bulge under her armor as she did..  
  
Dawn could hear the assassin, who now stared her right in the face from her mask, gagging and choking. The thief swung at Dawn's head with her buckler, but the cleric let go of her shield and reached up just in time to grab the woman's wrist. They struggled, nearly equal in strength, and both began to grow tired.  
  
"You've got my ankle, I've got your neck," Dawn told her, as they peered deep into each other's deep blue eyes from under mask and helm, "It's over."  
  
"Over for - GAK- you," the assassin rasped, "Look at your wrist."  
  
Dawn glanced down at the wrist that the assassin had struck first struck, and noticed that the strike had pierced her armor and even her skin, and she was bleeding slightly. "Big deal," she smirked, "So you had barbs on your whip."  
  
"More than bards, fellow whip-mistress," the assassin laughed, "Poison."  
  
Dawn looked down at her ankle, and the black whip wrapped around it, and noticed that indeed the very tip of the whip had barbs coated with a sticky purple substance.  
  
"It's over for both of us," Bucki laughed. "Don't bother with your simple little priest-prayers. The draughts of Cyric are potent indeed. But don't worry, there will be no pain, in fact your mind while be in psychotic euphoria before you die."  
  
"Too bad you won't be around to see it," Dawn scowled, her voice angry but cracking as she prepared to face death, and pulled her whip even tighter around the other woman's neck. The thief managed to get her wrist free of Dawn's grasp, and brought the buckler down to crash against the cleric's helmed head. Dawn beat her there, however, and the tiny shield glanced off her left gauntlet. The cleric then reached for the thief's face to inflict some pain of her own, but as she grabbed at it, the woman tilted her head back, despite the effective noose she was in, and Dawn grasped only the mask before she pulled.  
  
The assassin's mask came right off, and Dawn reached for her face again with her fingers, but all the anger melted from her own as she looked upon it. "Bucki? Bucki! Sis!"  
  
"Dawn?" the unmasked rogue peered back at her opponent. "Is that you?"  
  
Dawn pulled her helmet off with her free hand and smiled. "Yes, it's me!"  
  
"Dawn!" Bucki cried with joy, "I missed you so much! I..." she stopped suddenly, glanced down at the whip around her neck, and at the blood on Dawn's wrist. "I.I don't wanna die, big sis."  
  
"Neither do I, little sis," Dawn stared back, tears welling in her eyes. "It doesn't have to be this way, Buc."  
  
Bucki sniffled and tried to choke back her own tears. She let her buckler drop from her free hand, and reached into her leather armor, then pulled out a pink vial and held it toward her sister and spoke. "Drink this. Please."  
  
Dawn smiled, beginning to feel strangely weak but giddy. "To open it I'll have to take my hand off your noose, won't I? It's a deal, sis." Dawn let go of her whip, used both her hands to take the vial, unscrew the lid, and roll onto her back and gulp it down. The strange feeling began to dissipate. She got to her feet, and Bucki reached to her ankle and untied the black whip around it. Dawn then pulled her sister to her feet, and untied the white whip around her neck. And then they hugged.  
  
"I love you, Bucki," Dawn smiled from other her sister's shoulder.  
  
"I love you too, Dawn."  
  
The two broke their embrace and, holding their whips down at their sides, looked back at the battle. Minsc and Natasha were still dueling, as were Buffy and Vladimir. The four combatants all had numerous marks from claw or sword or mace, but no one seemed to have yet had the life, or the undeath, knocked out of them. Dawn and Bucki noticed they were facing the vampires' backs, and the sisters exchanged nods, and smiled. They each cracked their whips forward, and Dawn snared Natasha around her ankle, and Bucki snared Vladimir around his. The two whip-wielders then jerked back in unison, pulling the red-cloaked Thayvian vampires off their feet and bringing them sprawling on their faces, their heads hitting the hard marble and ringing with the sounds of fangs cracking on stone.  
  
The ranger and the paladin wasted no time. Buffy swung Goldenedge down swiftly and beheaded the prostrate Vladimir, and Minsc swung each mace down from the side with frighteningly powerful swings, crushing Natasha's head to a pulp between them. As Buffy rolled Vladimir's headless body onto its back and drew out wooden stakes, she tossed one to Minsc, who caught it as he easily rolled Natasha over with one hand. Two stakes came down in clenched fists and pierced two vampire hearts, and terrible screams issued forth but were then suddenly silenced.  
  
Bucki and Dawn then looked back over their shoulders to see Valygar bashing the last ghost out of existence with his runehammer just as Jaheira brought her staff cracking down upon the last stone golem and smote it to rubble.  
  
"Thanks, Sunnis," the druid smiled as she turned to face the now-idle earth prince.  
  
"Ho ho, anytime, druid friend!" the enormous elemental bellowed heartily, and vanished along with the deva and the planetar.  
  
Arra Flyte unfroze and the other party members all took a moment to catch their breath while Dawn and Jaheira went about healing all who needed it. After restoring a drained but exuberant Minsc, Dawn noticed the trepidations looks her companions were giving Bucki, whom she then warmly introduced as the long-lost runaway younger sister, Bucki Raybringer, that she had been and now was again.  
  
"Congratulations on your reunion, Dawn," the party's druid smiled kindly (to the surprise of many of her companions), "But we still have one more due - with Onyx."  
  
Bucki piped up, "Two more. I uh, sorta let him get loose last night," she blushed, "but I was the one who kidnapped Jarek Bond."  
  
Arra Flyte 006 shook her head, chuckling in spite of herself. "Good ol' Harper 007." 


	17. Reservoir Thieves, or Keep Fiction

17. Reservoir Thieves / Keep Fiction  
  
13 FLAMERULE 2100 CANDLEKEEP  
  
"Look lively, Mr. Green. I have angel and devil in the courtyard at 2 o'clock."  
  
"Relax, Mr. Black. I see 'em. We can see everything from up here. Ain't that right, Mr. White?"  
  
"Yeah, but shut yer trap. The princess will be running out the front door any minute. The kid will be with her, but that's no concern. Just shoot to kill and then we're gone."  
  
"Not to fast, Mr. White. Unless those arrows of yours have disintegration powers, we need the body."  
  
"Lighten up, Mr. Black. Red-Cloak Ed said he didn't require the head. Just do our job, and he'll take public news of the de'Arnise girl's death as proof enough."  
  
"Mr. Black is right. It's resurrection we're concerned about, not proof for Eddie."  
  
"Damn, that means we'll have to take out the kid too."  
  
"That a problem, Mr. White? For your ethics or your aim?"  
  
"Neither, Mr. Green, I just mean we should agree on our marks now. We might also have to take out the angel."  
  
"I wouldn't worry about her, Mr. White. The devil will keep her occupied."  
  
"You can say that again, Mr. Green. From here it looks like they are making out, or more, on those bales."  
  
"Oh yeah, a literal roll in the hay. Those are two hot bodies all right. I sure love watching this kinda stuff in infra. Don't ya just love being an elf sometimes?"  
  
"Cut it out, you pervs. I've got the keenest eyes of us all, and I think she's just crying into his shoulder or something like that."  
  
"Gee, you're making me get all teary, Mr. Black, it's so sickeningly innocent. Let's pick our marks already."  
  
"Alright, listen up. I'll aim for the princess. Mr. Green, you have the kid. Mr. White, you also mark the princess, but if the angel takes heed, and the devil doesn't get to her first, you take her out. And remember, don't stop when your mark goes down. I want at least three arrows in each one, the poison might not take the first time. And aim for the throats before the hearts, so they can't scream."  
  
"Roger that, Mr. Black."  
  
"Roger that."  
  
On the ramparts of the northwest side of Candlekeep's inner wall, just opposite the outer courtyard from the front door of the Candlekeep Inn, three black-leather-clad figures lay prostrate, holding taut shortbows out in front of themselves and pointing the drawn arrows down into the courtyard. Mr. Black, Mr. Green, and Mr. White, three of the Shadow Thieves' finest assassins, had been hired by Edwin 'Red-Cloak' Odesseiron, a recent but influential associate of the thieves' guild, for a contract hit on Nalia de'Arnise. Why? They didn't know, and they didn't care. But one thing they did care about was their homework, although Edwin had done most of it for them. They knew that their mark, and the friends that might be accompanying her, were young but powerful mages. The missiles drawn in their bows were arrows of dispelling, each coated by the assassins with a particularly potent poison, and they each had several more already coated and ready, lying within reach They had hoped to get at Nalia alone, but their job was to be done fast. They had to take what they could get, and this looked to be as good an opportunity as they were going to get.  
  
One thing they didn't know, however, was that they weren't the only trio of snipers lurking atop the walls of Candlekeep just now. In his guise as Dwein Seroindose of Athkatla's Council of Six, Edwin had told of the hit to his partner in corruption Isaea Roenal, who had a common enemy in miss de'Arnise. However, Isaea's base lust somewhat realigned his objectives, but instead of confronting Dwein directly on the matter, he had by himself decided, despite the ultimate failure of his last such effort, to catch Nalia alive, and had hired another three operatives, who at the moment happened to be just across the courtyard from Mr. Black, Mr. Green, and Mr. White, crouching in the shadows on the roof of the Candlekeep Inn itself and pointing loaded crossbows down into the courtyard. They were the Bounty Hunter, the Assassin, and the Swashbuckler, going by their free-agent aliases, but were also known as the half-elven Shadow Thief operatives Mr. Orange, Mr. Pink, and Mr. Brown. Of course, it wasn't Aran Linvail's usual practice to have a guild whose members contracted directly conflicting jobs, but these accidental overlaps were the sorts of things that happened when everyone ran around yielding little specific or accurate information, such as any unauthorized jobs they might be working on the side, in a world that was low on the technology of communication and high on the art of deception.  
  
"Assassin, if pink comes out with brunette, you take her out. Use a fatal draught, and shoot to kill. Coat Swashbuckler's bolts too. Swashbuckler, you also go for pink, but if blonde unwraps herself from blue and jumps into the fray, take out blonde first. I'll fire at brunette first with the net-crossbow, and then start with the paralytic bolts on her. You two feel free to join me if your marks are down, but put at least three poisoned ones in them first. And above all, don't go for the vitals with brunette."  
  
"Roger that, Bounty Hunter."  
  
"Roger that."  
  
A minute later the front doors of Candlekeep Inn swung open, briefly exporting light and sound into the outdoor night of the quiet library town, and two slight young women came bounding out, one in a suit of aslyferund elven chain, the other in archmagi robes.  
  
"It's the princess and the kid!" whispered Mr. Black from atop the inner wall.  
  
"It's brunette and pink!" whispered the Bounty Hunter from atop the outer wall.  
  
Nalia and Imoen briefly scanned the darkness, looking for Aerie, who happened to be not so far off, sitting with Haer'Dalis on a bale of hay in a dark corner against the north wall of Candlekeep. Despite the avariel's higher-than-usual heat emissions, her human friends couldn't see her in the darkness, and they started to call her name.  
  
"Ae-"  
  
"Aer-"  
  
Their sounds, overlaid by the almost-silent whizzing of bolts, arrows, and bolas through the night air, were suddenly cut off as said missiles met their marks. A spinning quartet of four small metal balls came spinning down through the darkness from over the front doorway of the inn, gradually widening into a bola-net. The net fell over Nalia and then the balls, still spinning, tied it up around her ankles. Within the same second, two poisoned arrows came shooting diagonally down from across the courtyard into her. One glanced off her mage robe, however, and the other was magically deflected around her as well by some other enchanted trinket she wore. A third poisoned arrow bounced off Imoen's elven chain, followed almost simultaneously by a poisoned bolt, but a second bolt pierced the light armor just under her left shoulderblade. The girl gave a cry as she felt her heart spasm and fell to the ground.  
  
Nalia shrieked in fright but kept her wits, and began chanting a fire spell to burn through the net. Her arcane utterances were interrupted by a paralytic bolt sailing through the sleeve of her upper arm. It dug into her skin, but failed to halt her nervous system. Two arrows sailed into her stomach, one glancing off her belt and the other piercing her fair flesh, and she gagged as she felt the all-to-familiar tingle of poison in her veins. The horror of her own predicament was interrupted briefly as she watched three missiles sail into Imoen's crumpled body, causing it to twitch with what Nalia recognized as the also-all-to-familiar visual signs of a comrade being poisoned.  
  
She tried desperately to reach for a dagger at her belt to cut her way out of the net, but two more bolts landed in her now-useless arm, and she had a moment's awareness of her arm being paralyzed, then fully half of her body, and then she remembered nothing more.  
  
"We did it, Mr. Black! And angel still seems preoccupied with devil."  
  
"Were you firing at princess, Mr. Green?"  
  
"No, at kid! You said that was my mark."  
  
"I could swear I saw her getting hit by more arrows than Mr. White and I sent off. Hard to tell, I can't see actually see 'em in this darkness, just the way her body spasms on impact."  
  
"Probably some illusion of her fool magery, Mr. Black. Let's go down and get her head before some guard comes bumbling by and carries her to the temple."  
  
With that Mr. White tossed down a rope, which had already been fastened at the top of the wall. The three assassins slid down in rapid succession and dashed quietly across the courtyard to where the two bodies lay. If they had been looking up as well as around, their infravision would have showed them three red bodies rappelling down the outer wall of the town, landing just beside the inn.  
  
Just as Mr. Black, Mr. Green, and Mr. White ran up to the sprawled forms of Nalia and Imoen, they saw against the light of the Candlekeep Inn's bright windows three silhouetted figures. "Move along, citizens," Mr. Black snarled, looking up at the shadows. "We'll take care of this."  
  
"Let us save you the trouble," one of them responded with forced politeness.  
  
Mr. Black, already clutching his shortbow and an arrow, put them together and stared down the dark figure of the Swashbuckler. "Oh no, I insis - Mr. Orange?" he gasped.  
  
Mr. Orange squinted back. "Mr. Black?"  
  
Mr. Green took a better look at the Assassin. "Mr. Pink?"  
  
Mr. Pink recognized the voice. "Mr. Green?"  
  
Mr. White looked over the first two half-elves and then at the third. "Mr. Brown?"  
  
Mr. Brown looked at the elf across from him. "Mr. White?"  
  
Immediately, the three half-elves leveled their loaded crossbows at the three elves, who aimed their drawn shortbows at the three half-elves.  
  
"Our catch, we were here first!" cried Mr. Pink, looking over his crossbow at Mr. Green.  
  
"Not a chance, half-breed," sneered Mr. Green, looking down his arrow at Mr. Brown.  
  
"Whoa whoa whoa! Are we all professionals here or not? Let's act like it," said Mr. Brown, looking over his loaded bolt at Mr. Black.  
  
"Well said. What are you three doing here? Who and why?" demanded Mr. Black, looking past his drawn bow at Mr. Orange.  
  
"You first!" insisted Mr. Orange, looking over his launcher at Mr. White.  
  
"No, we asked first," retorted Mr. White, looking around his taught bowstring at Mr. Pink.  
  
"So you volunteer an answer to what you ask. That's how it works between professionals," stated Mr. Pink.  
  
"Fine fine," sighed Mr. Green. "It's 'Red Ed', that new Thayvian guy that Bloodscalp and Linvail like so much. Got us to grease the de'Arnise girl. Aran cleared it and everything. Now you."  
  
Mr. Brown started to answer but it devolved into a strange gurgling noise.  
  
"You mutts are freelancing again, aren't you?" Mr. Black smirked. The awkward silence from the half-elves answered him.  
  
"Roenal set us up to get her alive," Mr. Orange confessed. "C'mon, he's practically a member himself."  
  
"Something like this goes through Linvail, you know that," Mr. Black stated. "I'd suggest you let us take care of this, and maybe we'll just forget to mention this little incident to him. For a price. I assume you have Roenal's down payment on you? I'm guessing this would run about a hundred grand. That will do nicely."  
  
"Go to hell," Mr. Brown snarled, sliding his finger along his crossbow trigger.  
  
"Even if you succeeded, Linvail would find out, and where would you be then, besides in a grave? We're your only chance," laughed Mr. Black.  
  
"All Linvail and Red Ed will find out is that you never came back," threatened Mr. Pink.  
  
Mr. Green growled, "Shut up, muthafucka!"  
  
Mr. Pink cried, "You fuckin' can it, muthafucka!"  
  
Mr. White yelled, "Fuck you, muthafucka! You fuckin' stow it!"  
  
Mr. Orange shouted, "Fuck that, muthafucka, fuck you! Muthafuckin' plug it!"  
  
Mr. Black roared, "Fuck no, fuckin' muthafucka! You fuckin' shut ya muthafuckin' hole!"  
  
Mr. Brown screamed, "Fuck no, fuck that, fuck you, you muthafuckin' muthafucker! You fuckin' shut yer fuckin' trap be-fuckin-fore this fuckin' muthafucka fuckin' shoots yo fuckin' ass, muthafucka! How you fuckin' like fuckin' that, you fuckin' muthafucka? Fuck yeah!"  
  
Mr. Green loosed his arrow at Mr. Brown.  
  
Mr. Pink fired his bolt at Mr. Green.  
  
Mr. White released his bow at Mr. Pink.  
  
Mr. Orange squeezed his trigger at Mr. White.  
  
Mr. Black shot his arrow at Mr. Orange.  
  
Mr. Brown unloaded his crossbow at Mr. Black.  
  
Mr. Brown went down with an arrow skewering his chest.  
  
Mr. Green hit the grass with a bolt gouged in his eye.  
  
Mr. Pink collapsed with an arrow through his throat.  
  
Mr. Orange spun with a bolt lodged in his shoulder.  
  
Mr. White spat blood with an arrow impaling his stomach.  
  
Mr. Black cursed with a bolt buried in his thigh.  
  
Mr. Pink and Mr. Green lay quite still, but Mr. White and Mr. Black stood, wincing, and each pulled a second arrow from his quiver and strung it. Mr. White aimed at Mr. Orange, who despite his injured arm was aiming back with a second bolt in his crossbow, and Mr. Black aimed down at Mr. Brown, who was on the ground with an arrow in his chest but still pointing his reloaded crossbow up at Mr. Black.  
  
"Hello, boys."  
  
The two surviving elves spun their heads right, and the two surviving half-elves spun their heads left, to see the body which owned the sweet voice that had spoken this phrase. What they saw was a very short, young elven girl with delicate, fair features and long wavy blonde hair. She wore sky-blue archmage robes on her extremely feminine frame, held in her left hand a tiny brown shield that suited her size, and in her right a shiny war hammer that seemed a bit big and heavy for someone like her.  
  
"The angel!" cried Mr. Black and Mr. White, turning their shortbows toward her.  
  
"Blonde!" cried Mr. Orange and Mr. Pink, pointing their crossbows at her.  
  
"I prefer 'Aerie' " the girl smiled. All four bows were discharged simultaneously, but the girl calmly held out her small shield. The four rogues watched in a split second of dumb amazement as the arrows and bolts were sucked straight towards the little shield, reflected cleanly off it, and followed their same trajectories right back.  
  
Four curses, colorful even by Shadow Thief standards, echoed through the night air. The arrows and bolts had indeed gone right back where they came from, and Mr. White and Mr. Black now had arrows sticking through their right palms, and Mr. Orange and Mr. Brown had now bolts lodged in their right forearms. All four dropped their launchers and reached with their left hands for throwing daggers stashed at various places on their persons, but they never reached them. Just after the girl had uttered a few strange words, the air about them filled with fine sand that whipped about, choking their throats, scraping their eyes and skin, and overwhelming them with a horribly painful thirst and feeling of utter dehydration, and each felt as if he'd just spent a week walking over endless sand dunes with nary a drop to drink.  
  
Mr. White fell forward helplessly, but his path toward the ground was altered by the presence of a hammer in his face. His wilting body went flying high through the air and splattered against Candlekeep's stone outer wall. Mr. Orange stood like a zombie, until the spike on the back of the hammer's head flew into his chest, piercing his heart and then sending him flying into the ground with such force that half his bones (including most of his vertebrae) broke upon impact. Mr. Black received largely the same treatment as Mr. White, becoming intimately familiar with the head of the hammer, but his destination turned out to be a bookshelf on the fourth floor of the Candlekeep library, after sailing clear over the inner wall of the keep and into one of the library's windows. Not that he was alive after lift-off to experience it. Mr. Brown, down on the ground, tried to crawl away, but a downwards hammer swing buried his head (or at least the pulp that was then left of it) in the soil.  
  
Aerie calmly wiped the head of Crom Faeyr off on a clean patch of grass and then hung it and her shield of reflection back on her belt. She then bent caringly over the body of Imoen, feeling the girl's neck for a pulse. A faint smile crossed her delicate elven features, and she began to chant a neutralizing spell in a beautiful voice, and the songlike language continued as she segued into a potent healing spell.  
  
Imoen spasmed and then sat upright, innocently blinking her eyes while the missiles sticking out of her melted into air, her wounds closed, and her enchanted elven armor even seemed to repair itself. "What the hey." the girl cried, and then looked into Aerie's eyes, grinned hugely, and let the avariel help her to her feet. "Heya, Aerie! Thanks!"  
  
Imoen looked around, and seeing no immediate threats, looked back towards Aerie, who was now bending over Nalia and carefully pulling the net off of her. Imoen watching in silence as Aerie felt for the young noblewoman's pulse, and then gave a sad sigh. The elven priestess began a very awe-inspiring chant for such a little girl's voice, and blue energy poured from her hands like a waterfall into the body of Nalia, which glowed blue and green, and above it an ethereal rose appeared. The images disappeared, and Nalia stirred as the shafts and wounds adorning her body faded away.  
  
"What the.where." Nalia sprang up. She looked around as Imoen had done, then down at the bodies of the four rogues and nodded with relative understanding. Nalia looked over to see the fifth smeared all over the wall, then at Aerie, and nodded approvingly.  
  
"The sixth is now up in the library, or what's left on him anyway," Aerie pointed up, and the other two girls giggled. "I heard some men arguing and some bow shots, and came over, and dealt with the four that had survived each other. Sorry I wasn't here sooner, I guess I didn't hear when they got you guys."  
  
"All's well that ends well, Aer!" Imoen laughed and hugged her.  
  
"And where exactly were you again, Aerie?" Nalia inquired and produced her letter from Valygar. She was about to say something more, but then Haer'Dalis came bounding up out of the dark.  
  
"Zounds, you three have made mincemeat of a party of scallywags!" he cried with imperfectly feigned surprise. "So glad you're alright!" he reached out with an arm to encircle Aerie's waist. "Why, I was.."  
  
"..Oh yeah, thanks for helping us," Aerie scowled with biting sarcasm as she knocked his hand away.  
  
"Aerie, we found something out," Nalia began. "Apparently my letter from Valygar was intercepted but resealed."  
  
"We think the code could have been compromised," Imoen continued, staring pointedly at Haer'Dalis.  
  
"Fascinating!" Haer'Dalis looked back with a perplexed stare of great interest. "Such intrigue! What a way to begin a tale!"  
  
Aerie pulled out her own letter, reputedly from Onyx, and read it over again carefully.  
  
"I wouldn't worry, my dove," Haer'Dalis laughed innocently, "I took it straight from his hand, and I can assure you that no other touched it ere your graceful fingers received it from mine. I can assure you that not a soul other has read this letter."  
  
"Don't play dumb, Haer," Nalia scowled at him, "We're talking about forging, not reading!"  
  
"My my!" Haer exclaimed overemphatically. "Such a tangled web! But alas, there too I'm afraid there is no chance, since he did give it straight to me, in fact he wrote it just before me at the breakfast table - though I averted my eyes from reading it, of course," he added hastily.  
  
"How polite of you," Nalia rolled her eyes.  
  
"Speaking of that breakfast," Aerie looked down at the letter again, "You said Jaheira was wearing a male paladin's tunic."  
  
"Why yes, 'twas a bit large for her, especially about the shoulders, and I share your sorrow my dear, truly I do," the bard sighed and wrung his hands.  
  
"Tell me, what did it have on it?"  
  
Haer gulped. "Eh, well, you know, the usual stuff, scales of Tyr and all that."  
  
"Hmmm, that's funny," Aerie mused with overacted thoughtfulness, "Onyx doesn't worship Tyr."  
  
"I must be misremembering then," the Doomguard chuckled with visible discomfort. "Tyr, Torm, Helm, they all look alike to me you know! Hey, maybe he got into Tyr since you saw him, who knows."  
  
Aerie looked down at her note again. All illusions of my feelings for you have been dispelled, one line of the letter bearing Onyx's signature read. Then the cleric remembered something Haer'Dalis had said aloud to her earlier. Nay, 'twas but an illusion of feelings soon to be dispelled.  
  
"Heya, look at this guys!" Imoen suddenly popped out from behind Haer, and he and the other two girls suddenly realized they somehow hadn't noticed her presence or lack thereof the past few minutes. "It's the key to a code!"  
  
She was holding an unfolded piece of paper in one hand gleefully, waved it in front of Nalia and Aerie's faces as she skipped around.  
  
"Guess where I got this!" the pink-haired thief winked at her friends, then put her hand over her mouth with a dramatic gesture of mock surprise and looked sidelong at the bard.  
  
Haer shrugged. "Nice try, kiddo. It must be yours." He put his right hands back in his pocket, and the others couldn't help noticing that his right hand seemed to be probing fruitlessly for something within. "Now, my dear Imoen," he began with a haughty smirk, "Just because I'm a cute catch doesn't mean you need to go sabotaging Aerie and m-PPFFF!!"  
  
He was interrupted by a slap from the avariel. "There is no 'you and me', Haer," she hissed at him as she withdrew her hand into her robes, and pulled out of her pocket a piece of paper, which she handed to Nalia and Imoen, who began reading it and laughed, to the tiefling's visible embarrassment. "By the way, it stank," Aerie scoffed as her friends continued howling at the poem that the bard had given her.  
  
"Tastes vary," he shrugged lamely.  
  
The avariel smirked, "Oh, and I bring it up because I couldn't help noticing the handwriting matches Imoen's little code key."  
  
"Ohhh," a forced look of sudden understanding came across the Doomguard's face, "You mean [i]that[/i] code key! I remember now. Why yes, actually, you see, Onyx wanted very much for me to join our little circle, and gave me a key. That one's in my handwriting because I was transcribing it to help me memori-"  
  
SLAP! He was cut off again. "That's for lying about my brother and tormenting my friend!" the pink-haired girl responsible for the blow yelled. "That's not all you were transcribing," she held up another piece of paper, which had 'The quick brown xvart jumps over the lazy gnoll,' written a number of times, the handwriting gradually morphing from Haer's to Onyx's as it went down the page.  
  
"Ah yes," the bard chuckled, "At breakfast, Onyx practiced emulating my handwriting, since of course he recognized it as far more artistic than his. Funny he started from the bottom of the page, but the boy's practically a barbari-"  
  
Haer's sentence was finished prematurely by an upwards swing of Crom Faeyr that slammed into his crotch.  
  
"WAAAAAHOOOOHOOOHOOOOOO...." The blade's screams of pain trailed off as he sailed through the air in a high arc over the outer wall of Candlekeep. Then, from beyond the wall came a sudden loud splash amidst the constant, calm sounds of the ocean.  
  
"Home run!" Imoen giggled as Aerie put the hammer back on her belt again, and Nalia joined them in laughter and hugs. 


	18. Jurassic Palace

18. Jurassic Palace  
  
14 FLAMERULE 0000 THE UNDERSEA PALACE  
  
Jaheira, tailed by two rangers, two crusaders, and two thieves, ran down a crystal-and-marble corridor of the undersea palace, looking for any signs of her their lost leader, inspecting every hallway.  
  
"Hurry up, everyone! Can't you rangers run faster?" she shouted over her shoulder to the others as she ran. "Look through the windows and the ocean into the other passageways, we might see something! Keep your eyes peeled for hidden traps or doors, especially you, Arra! Don't you know anything more about this place, Bucki? We've got to find a way down to where they took him!"  
  
A knot of acrid pain formed in the half-elf's stomach, but she forced herself to run onwards, as the bitterness spread to her mind. [i] Will none that I love be safe? First, they took my family. Then, they took my grove. Then, they took Gorion. Then, they took Khalid. Now, they're trying to take Onyx. Well, this time, I won't let them. I WON'T LET THEM! [/i]  
  
**********  
  
Onyx came to, and found himself shackled to a metallic table. He was not in chains, only neat little half-circle cuffs that wrapped around his wrists, ankles, waist, and neck, all attached to the table, pinning him there.  
  
"Ah, I see the child of Bhaal has awoken."  
  
Onyx rolled his eyes. "Very funny. Irenicus did that line much better. Your accent isn't creepy at all."  
  
"Ah.as you like," the voice chuckled with perceptible chagrin. "As I'm sure you can guess, I am the Jeweler."  
  
"Your fashion sense is terrible as well," the cavalier said, looking down at the tight, shiny silver suit he had been dressed in by his captor. He managed to twist his head slightly, and out of the corner of his eye he could see a man of average height with freckles and sandy hair stroking a cat. "A game of cat and mouse, eh?" the paladin asked.  
  
"Precisely," the Jeweler chuckled. "You're sounding like your friend, Jarek Bond. But pray that you'll fare better than he did!"  
  
The Jeweler snapped his fingers, and a small beholder floated into Onyx's field of vision. It began staring at the bottom of the table, and then its main eye lit up and a concentrated beam of light shot out of the pupil and fired onto the metal table, between Onyx's feet, starting to disintegrate the metal surface. As the beam burned a hole in the end of the table, the beholder began angling its eye up and the beam began cutting the table upwards, between and parallel to Onyx's legs and headed straight for his groin.  
  
"Do you expect me to talk?" the paladin asked calmly.  
  
The Jeweler chuckled. "No, Sir Onyx, I expect you to die!" With that he ran laughing from the room.  
  
Onyx began to chant a priest spell at the beholder, but without interrupting its main eye's beam gaze, one of the stalk eyes looked straight at the human and zapped forth a spell which instantly ceased the stream of syllables from his mouth. The cavalier moved his lips in a curse, but of course no sound came out at that either.  
  
The frost-giant-strong warrior then gritted his teeth and tried to bust himself out of the metal restraints with brute force, but they would not give, and did not even betray the awful sounds of straining metal, even though the man could have easily torn himself out of the shackles almost any of Faerun's dungeons had to offer.  
  
[i] If I don't get out of this trap soon [/i], Onyx thought as the beam drew closer to his crotch, [i] I'll have one very disappointed lover! [/i]  
  
Just moments before this fear came true, the captured cavalier heard a twang sound behind him and an arrow whizzed over his head and stuck the tiny beholder right in its main eye. The floating beast shut the eye, immediately ceasing the beam, and opened its fang-lined mouth to let out a piercing shriek, into which another projectile then flew, the arrowhead then popping out the back of the beholder and causing black blood to spurt from the creature's mouth. Onyx craned his head back to find his savior, and saw two booted feet land on his table, then they leapt up again and the cavalier watched, impressed, as a man clad like him in shiny silver leather leapt into the air holding a longsword, and cleaved the little beholder cleanly in half in midair before landing on the floor at the foot of the table.  
  
Black blood and beholder-brains flew everywhere as the beholder's halves flew apart like a busted piñata, streaking across Onyx's face. When he opened his eyes, he could see Jarek Bond standing at the foot of the table, wiping off the longsword on the foot of the table and then sticking it over his back alongside other blades and a shortbow, and smiling smugly.  
  
"Good day, Sir Onyx," the swashbuckler nodded calmly, as if this were an ordinary day (which it somewhat was, for both of them), "If you're not too tied up at the moment," he quipped while the cavalier silently groaned at the pun, "Perhaps you'd care to join me?"  
  
Onyx mouthed the sentence, "If you can quit wisecracking and actually unshackle me," but no sound came out.  
  
"Damsels in distress are usually speechless when I rescue them," Jarek arched an eyebrow, "But you, Sir Onyx? Very interesting." The cavalier did an exaggerated eye-roll at the swashbuckler to convey his (low) opinion of the joke. "Allow me," Jarek continued and reached under the table, and pulled some sort of lever which made a loud click. The metal bands restraining Onyx immediately swiveled back into the table and the freed paladin wasted no time in rolling sideway and off that accursed table, landing in a kneel on the floor and standing up again while brushing some beholder gore off himself.  
  
"Thanks, Jarek," Onyx pleasantly surprised himself by saying out loud. "So what's the score?"  
  
"Two-nothing, Jeweler's favor, I'm afraid," Jarek played off the idiom. "I've been his...guest...for a few days now, as you must have suspected, but as you can see managed to free myself - though I should thank Bucki Ryder - that's the lady assassin your friend Valygar would've reported last seeing me with in Nashkel. I acquired this bow, the arrows, and some longswords from a patrol of skeletons I managed to take out, but for the most part I've been keeping to the dark corners of this confounded undersea palace and avoiding fights. Golems and more powerful undead are numerous, and though I think I found where the Jeweler stashed my gear - and yours, I'd wager - I've not yet dared to fight or try to sneak past the vigilant, vampiric guards of that chamber."  
  
"Perhaps I can help you there," Onyx nodded approvingly, and Jarek pulled two longswords off his back and handed them to him. The cavalier copied Jarek's innovation of plunging them through-and-back-through the back of his silver leather suit to create makeshift but suitably secure and safe sheaths.  
  
"Odd taste in clothing, the Jeweler has for his guests," Jarek smiled, admiring the outrageously shiny silver suits they both had been dressed in during their capture.  
  
"Tell me about it," Onyx nodded, "What is it about evil and poor taste that go together?"  
  
"Now you're getting the swing of it," Jarek laughed at the quip. "The rest of your friends here?"  
  
"Yes, although the Helmite split off and we've been joined by a Lathanderian cleric and paladin," Onyx informed.  
  
"That wouldn't be darling Dawn and her kid sis, busty Buffy, would it?" Jarek arched an eyebrow and grinned.  
  
"Yep, that's them," Onyx nodded back, "You seem to know a lot of the Harpers' agents, 007."  
  
"Just the ladies," the swashbuckler grinned absentmindedly as he turned toward the door of the chamber. "It'll be good to see Arra again, it's a pity I always end up leaving her company so abruptly." Onyx rolled his eyes as the two walked toward the door. "Now, once we leave this chamber, try to be as quiet you can - which, being a paladin, I'm guessing isn't very - enemies will be about and listening, and I doubt even you, my lionlike friend, want to take them all head-on with our tasteless leather outfits and mundane weaponry. Do you have a means of hiding?"  
  
"I'll cast a sanctuary spell," Onyx nodded.  
  
"Good. I'll keep to the shadows. Just follow me, and once we get to the doorway to the room with our gear, I'll give you a signal and we'll have to fight the last few guards, two vampires who'll see me and perhaps you, I'm afraid."  
  
Onyx nodded. "Once we get there, let me cast a few spells on us before we engage them."  
  
"Very good, I didn't particularly feel like making a blood donation today. Cast them quietly, as this marble palace echoes like a plagiarizing bard. Shall we?"  
  
Onyx cast sanctuary over himself and Jarek opened the door. The two proceeded down a hallway. It was made of greenish marble, and the walls were almost entirely of perfectly clear crystal, through which he could see the ocean. Other hallways and chambers were visible through the water; the palace looked almost like a giant coral structure; with hallways snaking through the water between otherwise free-floating chambers; rather than being one solid building with the rooms flush against each other and sharing walls. The marble-and-crystal halls and chambers were all extremely clean, extremely quiet, and extremely cold.  
  
The pair continued around several turns and up and down a few stairways, past a number of lesser types of ambling undead; spectral, skeletal, and cadaverous alike, as well as some marching golem sentries, careful to stay out of their paths.  
  
At last, after going down a stairway that nearly plunged into the ocean floor, the pair came to a single, long hallway that ran along just above the coral growing out of the sand floor below. It shot out away from the other snaking passages of the palace, and was even quieter and colder.  
  
Onyx could just make out what seemed like an end to the hallway ahead; a doorless archway leading into some sort of larger room which he could vaguely make out the exterior shape of by looking through the water surrounding the wall; and he thought he saw the glint of gold within it. Jarek gave the signal, even though the cavalier could see no vampires yet. Onyx inferred Jarek must have carefully appraised the correct distance for inaudible spellcasting. He concentrated, and immediately very faint blue globes appeared and disappeared around him and Jarek as he protected them from the impending evil. The cavalier then blessed them both, imbued himself with holy might and armor of faith, and last but not least, a negative energy ward.  
  
Onyx gave Jarek a nod and then the swashbuckler immediately broke into a run, and the cavalier followed closely, both knowing they'd have to dispatch their vampiric foes before their defenses wore off. Jarek pulled the shortbow off his back and notched an arrow midstride, and Onyx drew his longswords and began mentally preparing another spell.  
  
Just as the two came within a dozen yards of the gateway, horrific shrieks could be heard from just on the other side and two vampire women popped through. Both men immediately planted their feet, and Jarek let his arrow loose at one, while Onyx cast a holy smite over the area between them and their foes. The nimble Jarek had already loosed a second arrow at the other when the evil-banishing energy of the spell flowed down over the hallway, and the vampires both screamed as it ate at their undead bodies and arrows flew through their hearts. Still the monsters clambered on, reaching out with their dirty claws toward the heroes, and Jarek tossed down his short bow just in time to unsheath another pair of longswords and join Onyx in a four-sword whirlwind blizzard against the vampires. Segments of claw and arm went flying against the glass walls as the swordsmen cut into the monsters, and with nearly synchronized slashes each cut off the head of a vampire with one of his sword and then impaled it through the heart with his other.  
  
"Well, that was a pleasant warm-up," Jarek chuckled as the vampiric bodies disintegrated and their mists floated back down the hallway. Onyx scowled at the gaseous forms, hoping to later find and stake their hosts.  
  
"Was that the vampire couple that rules the undead here?" the cavalier asked.  
  
Jarek laughed haughtily. "Not a chance! They are far more powerful, and one is a male. Yes, I have seen them from afar, but not dared to go close. No, these were merely two of their lackeys, and not better ones at that. But luckily for us, they were the only ones guarding our stuff." With that, Jarek strode into the small room at the end of the hall. He and Onyx began to rifle through the treasure chests, and soon found two bags of holding.  
  
"Platemail. This one's yours," the swashbuckler remarked as he peeked into one, then tossed it to the cavalier.  
  
"Leather. This one's yours," the cavalier remarked as he peeked into the other, then tossed it to the swashbuckler.  
  
"Everything's still here, I'm impressed," Jarek smiled as he peered into his bag. "The Jeweler is quite a kind host, isn't he?"  
  
"Don't get me started," Onyx scoffed as he opened his bag. "Yep, everything in mine is still - oh no."  
  
"What's missing?" Jarek looked concerned.  
  
Onyx gulped. "The Burning Earth."  
  
***********  
  
"Blue dragonscales, eh?" Jarek smirked as he watched Onyx draw out and don his shiny blue suit of armor. "Makes your foes a bit less shocking, I hear?"  
  
Onyx rolled his eyes, "Not shocking at all. Between this and my natural abilities, I'm immune. Ah, armor of shadows, I should have guessed," he watched the thief draw out a nearly-black suit of leather and slip it on.  
  
"Yes, and if I do say so myself, it's quite stylish - when I wish to be seen at all." Jarek also drew a few potions of invisibility from his bag and strapped them in various places to his suit. "Ah, a dragon helm!"  
  
"Immunity to fire," Onyx nodded as he clamped the helm down and then slipped on a bright red ring.  
  
"Wouldn't want the Jeweler running the burn on us, would we?" Jarek punned and Onyx sighed. The swashbuckler drew out a headband with a black ioun stone set in it and tied it just under his hair. "Not the favorite look, but occasionally I have to be practical," he smirked. "Ah, I see you've had boots of speed and the north forged together for you?"  
  
"Nearly immune to cold, with my helm and myself," Onyx nodded as he put on the boots.  
  
"Very good. I had the same done with boots of grounding," Jarek smiled as he pulled out another specially forged pair and put them on. "An internal barrier girdle? Very nice. Cuts those magic missiles down to size."  
  
"With myself and this amulet," Onyx added as he slipped a necklace under his armor, "and a spell; or even just my sword, I can cut out the rest. Of course, my fiancé has a single cloak that provides immunity; all the best defensive equipment for her," the paladin smiled absentmindedly.  
  
"Ah, such singular commitment," the swashbuckler smirked. "How sweet."  
  
The cavalier glared at him with mixed disapproval and amusement. "Something tells me you wouldn't know, Jarek Bond."  
  
"Hey, it's not my fault that I've not yet found Miss Perfect.only Miss Tethyrian, Miss Amnish, Miss Cormyrian, Miss Baldurian, Miss Kozakuran, Miss Shou-Lungese, Miss Calimshani, Miss Chultish, Miss Maztican, Miss Avariel, Miss Drow, Miss Nymph, Miss Tiefling, Miss."  
  
"Alright, alright! I get the idea!" Onyx groaned. "Can't a man put on his belt in peace?"  
  
"I guess unlike myself, you don't need one for strength?" Jarek smiled as he clamped a strength girdle around his waist.  
  
"Nope," Onyx smiled. "I'm a giant; and Torm can make me a titan." The cavalier threw on a non-detection cloak.  
  
"Very subtle choice for a paladin," Jarek laughed as he slipped on and fastened tight to his back an identical cape. "Last time I saw you, it was more aesthetically oriented nymph's cloak."  
  
"I think we're beyond negotiation at this point, don't you?" Onyx winked as Jarek tucked an amulet under his leather.  
  
"Quite," Jarek nodded as he slipped on a ring of regeneration and watched Onyx slip on an improved invisibility ring to match the one he'd just donned. Over his rings the cavalier slipped on a set of handwear that caused Jarek to arch an eyebrow. "Bracers or gauntlets?"  
  
"Both," the cavalier smiled, "Had a quick-talking imp fuse blessed bracers onto gauntlets of extraordinary weapon specialization." He waved his hands around in an unarmed combat technique unbecoming of a paladin.  
  
"Offense and defense, I like. But stylistically, they look a little garish," Jarek smiled.  
  
"Say that when they resurrect you later on," Onyx winked while Jarek slipped on some blinding strike bracers.  
  
"Perhaps instead you'd better hope that a rogue can figure out how to work such an item," Jarek winked back and attached his bag of holding to his waist. He pulled out a tuigan short bow, strapped in onto his back, then filled the quiver next to it with arrows, drew out a number of daggers and placed them along his forearms and thighs, and lastly pulled out a pair of beautifully crafted Kozakuran katanas and sheathed them in an "X" over his back.  
  
"You look like my sister, thief," Onyx winked as he strapped his own bag to his belt, and began to draw out and sheath weapons on his armor. The Azuredge throwing axe he sheathed in a quickly grabble manner over his right shoulder, the silvery Axe of the Unyielding and the five-headed Flail of Ages he strapped at either hip, the pair of longswords Daystar and Angurvadal he sheathed along his thighs, the longsword Dragonslayer and bastard sword Foebane he sheathed in a diagonal cross on his back, and between them along his spine he sheathed the two-handed Carsomyr.  
  
"You look like a true tin can, paladin," Jarek winked back. "Shall we?"  
  
Onyx nodded. "Let's go."  
  
After very quickly loading the other contents of the treasure room back into their bags of holding, the two fully armed heroes ran at boot- hastened pace out of the ransacked room and back down the hallway.  
  
"Where the hell are we going? Onyx asked Jarek.  
  
"Straight to the Jeweler," Jarek explained, "Unless you feel like dropping by on some more vampires."  
  
"Not any more than I have to," Onyx chuckled.  
  
"Best be quiet and activate our invisibility rings then. Stay close to me," Jarek explained. He and Onyx twisted the rings on their left hands in unison and disappeared from sight. They ran along the crystal-and-marble halls of the undersea palace, past unwitting patrols of golems and vampires who could not detect them. They gradually would their way to the other end of the palace, though still on the bottom floor, and the sandy ocean floor stretched ever out before them through the crystal.  
  
At last they came to the large window-walled chamber where Jarek had formerly dined with the Jeweler. "Protect us from evil, Torm," Onyx whispered simply as he and the swashbuckler ran into the large room.  
  
"So good of you to join us, heroes!" came a thinly pleasant villain's laugh, and the large chair behind the long table swiveled around to reveal the sandy-haired, freckled Jeweler sitting in it. With a flick of his wrist he dispelled the invisibility of the two heroes. The chair next to it spun around, revealing itself to be occupied by a blonde man in a black fighting suit, the Saint. Across the table, Jarek and Onyx stopped in their tracks.  
  
"I'm so glad we could all come together," the Jeweler chuckled, gesturing to the three around him. "We have Jarek Bond, the legendary Harper agent who has foiled so many of my little schemes over the years, but how long can this aging thief's luck last? We have Sir Onyx, a divinely- tainted knight who has made quite a name for himself over the past year, but will daddy's shadow always be the sole source of his fame and fortune? We have Cyran, better know as the Saint, an unparalleled saint of the sword and a true leader of the Cyricist flock, who is my now my illustrious business partner. For I am the Jeweler, I deal in the rarest artifacts, mostly a collector of sorts, and it is I who engineered the slave trade from the beginning."  
  
"And that's just where it begins," the spiky-blonde Saint spoke darkly as he stood up, two katana handles sticking up over his shoulderblades, "But for you, this is where it ends."  
  
"I want my sword back, Jeweler," Onyx scowled at the sandy-haired Jeweler. "It's [i]mine.[/i]"  
  
"Ah," the Jeweler smiled, and stood up out of his chair, revealing a pair of longswords sheathed on either side of his waist. The handle of one Onyx recognized as the Burning Earth, the other looked quite similar but was electric white-yellow in color, instead of fiery orange-red. The man set his cat down and placed his hands on the hilts lovingly. "I'm afraid it was mine first."  
  
"You stole it at some point, big deal," Onyx shrugged.  
  
"No, no, dear paladin," the Jeweler grinned, stretching his round freckly face into an angled mask, and his voice grew deeper as he spoke, "I made it." The man gripped two swords, and drew them out. The Burning Earth now had a red pommel gem where Onyx had earlier noticed one might go, and his mind's eye flashed back to the terrible vision of the great reptilian beast of the ancient world that the Burning Earth itself had once showed him, the sword its claw, glowing bright with leaping flame, as it did now again. In the Jeweler's other hand, which also seemed much too weak and small to an unwieldy, ancient weapon, the other sword crackled with leaping electricity, and it had a bright yellow pommel gem in its hilt. "Yes," the Jeweler smiled as he watched Onyx's eyes widen, "You know."  
  
The cavalier saw the huge, terrible, scaly creature in his mind again, standing twice as tall as the two barbarians that it slashed down, laughing terribly.  
  
The Jeweler spoke.  
  
"In the beginning, the world was without form."  
  
Onyx saw again his vision of the utter void, cold and complete darkness.  
  
"When it took shape, it was a burning place. It was the burning earth."  
  
Onyx saw again his vision of the barren, burning rocks, magma everywhere and life nowhere.  
  
"And the air overhead sizzled and crackled with lightning; it was the searing sky."  
  
Onyx saw again in his vision the air of the burning landscape filled with thunder.  
  
"Then there was life. And the world was hot and wet and bright, and it grew."  
  
Onyx saw again his vision of the landscape now covered in the foliage of dense jungles.  
  
"And life began to stir, and grew larger and greater and more complex."  
  
Onyx now saw animals among the plants, scaly things scurrying about, growing larger and fiercer.  
  
"And then, emerged the king of the species."  
  
Onyx now saw one great animal among them, a large, winged, scaly creature that looked like a huge, winged reptile; like both a dragon and a demon, and somehow different still.  
  
"And so it should have stayed. But then a fluke, an accident happened."  
  
Onyx saw again his vision of the great orb from space crashing into Toril, sending clouds of dust and ice across the surface, flooding the world and blanketing it in cold and winter.  
  
"Now you understand, human," the Jeweler smiled, "You were a fluke, an accident, a mistake. Your race was never meant to be. Our kind had a destiny. We ruled the world, and were meant to forever more. We were great, magnificent, and immortal. We were the dragemosaurs. But then the blazer came down from the sky, and destroyed us! And allowed you pathetic monkey- men an ill-earned chance. The cold and the mammals drove us away. Some of us, the larger ones, began to hibernate, hoping to wake again one day, millennia in the future. And these evolved into the race of Dragons, huge beasts that slumber for eons in their lairs. And among others of us sprang mutants with the abilities to find or make doors to travel the planes. And these evolved into the race of Demons, and fleed the terrible cold of the Prime. Our descendants live, but we are gone. All save one. Me. My family was the last. My mate and our eggs were killed, stolen and eaten by you furry fiends. I swore revenge upon your simian interlopers, and so I crafted The Burning Earth," the Jeweler held up the gem-augmented fiery sword, "And the Searing Sky," the Jeweler held up the electric sword. "The world began in fire and lightning, and so shall it end. I am the Jeweler, but my true form is Tyranodon, and I am the last dragemosaur."  
  
"Whatever the hell you are," Onyx bellowed as he reached his hands up to his shoulders and drew out Peridan, the dragon-slayer, in his right hand, and Foebane, the demon-smiter, in his left. "You're going extinct."  
  
"NEVER, WEAK HUMAN," the Jeweler growled in a reverberating and inhumanly deep voice, and he began to shapeshift, and grow larger and scalier, and became the beast from Onyx's vision. The beast stood, on two legs but stooping forward, about twice the height of a man. Its flesh was covered in an armor of large, green, chitinous scales, the claws of its front and back limbs long, red, and swordlike, the front ones clutching the two massive and ancient longswords, whose auras of flame and electricity made their blades even larger. The beast's body was not unlike that of a thin-bodied dragon standing mostly erect on its hind legs, and it did have two green leathery wings sprouting from its back. It had the twisted, horrifically grinned face of a demon though, with a crown of cruel horns upon its forehead, and other horns sprouting from its back, knees, shoulders, and tail. Its snout was quite long, like a dragon's, but wider; easily large and powerful enough to swallow a man whole with one snap, or bite him in half with one chomp. Its great toothy jaw smiled daggers down at the knight and the rogue.  
  
"Humans are not weak," the cavalier stared up defiantly at the beast.  
  
Tyranodon began to laugh a deep, murderous laugh, echoing all about the chamber. Onyx stood his ground, but Jarek was at once overcome with a sudden panic, and began to spin around and bolt for the door.  
  
"Courage, friend!" Onyx bellowed, his voice echoing like a god's, "You shall have no fear!" At these words, Jarek's fear was gone at quickly as it had come, and he spun round again and faced the enormous creature and the kensai standing beside it.  
  
"Enough theatrics," Cyran, still standing next to the monster, hissed from under the spiky blonde hair spilling over his headband. "Let's waste these fools. KAAAIIIIIII!!!!!!!!"  
  
Before Onyx even had a chance to blink, the kensai had drawn the katanas on his back and leapt high into the air, straight over the table, making an arc for Jarek, shouting his strange battle-cry. The swashbuckler's reflexes were just as fast, and he'd already yanked his shortbow and an arrow off his back with each hand. He drew and fired the arrow as Cyran flew over the table, then let the shortbow fall onto a belt- hook and reached back for the katanas over his own shoulders. With lightning reflexes, Cyran swung his katanas forward, slicing the arrow in three pieces in midair just before it plunged into his chest, and continuing with the forward sweeps clanged against Jarek's blades just as he hit the ground.  
  
The kensai and the swashbuckler glanced up from their crossed swords as Tyranodon drew a deep intake of breath. Onyx looked up and saw the dragemosaur holding his swords aloft, and they began to grow even more brightly that ever before. Suddenly a great billow of fire came from the Burning Earth and a great cloud of lightning from the Searing Sky, and struck the center of the table. While Tyranodon continued laughing, Jarek and Cyran immediately parted and both leapt for the edge of the room, narrowly dodging the elemental blasts. As if a red dragon and a blue one had breathed upon the very same spot in unison, great clouds of fire and electricity exploded from the middle of the table, enveloping Onyx while Cyran and Jarek nimbly dashed away. The great beast bellowed in laughter as he watched the terrible storm consume the cavalier across the table from him.  
  
"DIEEEE, KNIIIIIIGHT," he bellowed, chuckling to himself and holding his two great swords aloft while flames and lightning leapt about. His laughter was cut short when the untouched form of a blue-and-silver armored warrior brandishing two swords of his own leapt out of the cloud of energy straight for him, seeming to have passed straight through the storm without a care. Onyx jumped up onto the table and now leapt off the other side at his foe, the fire and electricity flashing harmlessly about him as he sailed through the air headlong at the beast, Dragonslayer and Foebane pointed forward. Tyranodon growled with fury at his adversary's passage through the elemental maelstrom, but was not caught off guard, and met the incoming blades with slashing parries from his ancient longswords. So great were his blows that the cavalier was knocked backwards out of the air, and crashed back into the table, shattering the marble and then hopping to his feet again as the beast strode forward.  
  
Tyranodon spun and his great spiked tail came swinging at the cavalier, who leapt over it as it smashed more of the table to rubble, and then ducked under a buffet from its wings, which scraped across what remained of the tabletop and sent the placesettings and the Jeweler's cat flying across the chamber.  
  
"OHHH..MR. BIGGLESWORTH GO BYE-BYE," Tyronodon growled with a hint of regret as he watched the feline sail through the air. It landed on its feet (of course), and wisely scurried away (chasing an undead mouse).  
  
"Eight left, Mr. Bigglesworth," Jarek Bond could be heard quipping above the fray.  
  
"Torm, grant me might!" Onyx shouted and raised his swords aloft, and was for one instant consumed in a pillar of white light. As Tyranodon swung his swords down at the spectacle, the cavalier appeared again, swinging back fearlessly. The knight's swords smashed against the dragemosaur's, and the beast stumbled back at the unprecedented strength behind his opponent's blows.  
  
Beyond the end of the table, outside the fading cloud of fire and lightning, Jarek and Cyran had reengaged as soon as they had escaped the common danger, and danced around each other. Four katanas flashed bright as showy, deadly blows were exchanged at high speeds.  
  
Cyran brought each katana in from the side in fast horizontal sweeps which undoubtedly had the power to cut his opponent in half. The quick-minded swashbuckler saw this, and could have feigned back out of reach or used both his blades to parry them, but his aching wounds told him that he had to end this, for he was at his end. He dropped only his off weapon to his waist to counter, turning it sideways, and with his main weapon continued to slash high and forward. He turned his left wrist, aligning the katana horizontally in front of his waist, the pommel of its hilt pointing towards Cyran's incoming main hand katana, the tip of its blade pointing towards Cyran's incoming off hand katana.  
  
The swashbuckler's finesse was perfect, and both of the kensai's weapons clanged off the top and bottom of the swashbuckler's left-hand curved sword with two metallic rings in unison. Less than half a second later, Jarek's right-hand katana, uninhibited, sailed straight into Cyran's head. The enchanted steel sliced cleanly into the left side of his face, running all the way from the left corner of his mouth, up through his cheek and eye and forehead, slicing quickly through the front of his skull and teeth into his jaw and forebrain like a surgeon's scalpel. The hilt of the katana smashed into his jawbone, and he went stumbling back, screaming in horrible pain with a bloody gash now running down the left side of his face. He dropped his katanas to grab his mutilated face in agony, and shortly dropped to the floor himself, clutching his face as he spasmed and bled; and then he lay quite still.  
  
The air filled with horrible clanging every time the swords of Onyx and Tyranodon met, flames or sparks leaping from the beast's weapons but hurting neither of them. With a quick spin of its entire massive body, Tyranodon brought his wings swinging forward at the cavalier, who stabbed for them with his swords but nonetheless was buffeted forcefully into the air, landing on the marble floor across the chamber. The beast took to the air with its wings, flying over the cavalier and then dropping back to the floor to crush the human beneath its great hind limbs. Onyx rolled aside just in time, and sprang up as the beast came down, using their combined motion to stab with force and speed into the side of the beast as it crashed to the floor, causing great cracks to radiate across the marble. Blackish beast-blood sprayed from the wounds with such force that as Onyx withdrew Dragonslayer and Foebane, he was nearly knocked back.  
  
The beast gave a horrible roar and stabbed at him with the Burning Earth while swinging for his head with the Searing Sky. Onyx sidestepped the stab, ducked the swing, but before he could move elsewhere, the dragemosaur had reared back with both swords to its shoulders and come forward again, each swinging in great diagonal arcs toward the cavalier, from both outside and above, prepared to meet in an "X" of slashes right where he stood. They were coming from the sides, so Onyx could not evade left or right, but they were coming down from above to the floor; he could not duck them. The creature lunged forward as it swung, and the paladin knew he could not jog backwards any faster; nor could he come forward straight at the creature's kicking, spearing hind claws and horned knees.  
  
The only way out was up. He sprang out of his crouch with blinding speed, using the superhuman strength that filled his legs and back to shoot up like a compressed spring, leaping high into the air, high for the most acrobatic of monks, much an armored knight. As he soared up, he pulled his swords back behind his shoulders, and as he came up face to face with the house-high beast, its head sprang forward like a snake and its mouth opened wide to bite, but the knight swung his two swords forward in great horizontal sweeps from both sides. Dragonslayer and Foebane cleaved into the dragemosaur's neck, shearing it front to back, meeting at its spine and completely beheading it.  
  
Tyranodon's final roar dissolved into a vomiting of dark blood, which ceased to come from its mouth as the head fell away, and instead spurted from its great, cleanly cleaved neck. The head fell to the floor, looking as hideous as ever and still staring up at its slayer, and the decapitated body let go of its swords, which fell with ominous, heavy clangs; and then the great body stumbled backwards and fell, crushing its own wings under itself and further cracking the marble floor, shaking the entire chamber as it landed.  
  
Onyx himself landed on his feet, breathing heavily, clutching his bloody swords, and looked down at the severed head of the beast. He started as its eyes opened again and peered up at him. A chortling laugh came from within its great, toothy mouth.  
  
"CONGRATULATIONS, HUMAN.." it bellowed, even without lungs, "PERHAPS.YOU ARE NOT SO WEAK AFTER ALL. THE TEST OF TIME HAS PROVED ME WRONG. MY KIND WAS.UNFIT.AND SO WE GO. AND YOU FLOURISH, AND REIGN.THE KING OF SPECIES."  
  
"So be it," Onyx proclaimed, staring down at the head of his slain foe, "Man shall triumph over the greatest monster."  
  
"NO..." the beast's head growled, "MAN [i]IS[/i] THE GREATEST MONSTER..HO HO HO HO HO HO.." With that, the head sputtered, the tongue rolled limply out of the toothy mouth, the eyes closed, and then it ceased to move. Tyranodon, the last dragemosaur, was dead.  
  
"Mission accomplished, my good man," Jarek chuckled, looking at the still body of the kensai that lay across in a puddle of its life-blood across the room.  
  
"Let us hope," Onyx nodded tiredly, and stepped over the body of Tyranodon. Using Dragonslayer and Foebane, he began to shear away the hard, chitinous scales of the beast, carving away a single large swath of its scaly hide.  
  
"He'll make quite a suit of armor, eh?" Jarek smiled. "Pity it'd prove heavy for my tastes, or I'd take some myself..perhaps the teeth and claws though; they'll make excellent daggers and shortswords."  
  
"Help youself. Speaking of which," Onyx spoke thoughtfully as he cut off his enormous chunk of hide, rolled it up, and stuck it in his bag of holding, "It's time I reclaimed my sword.and one more for my troubles."  
  
Sheathing Dragonslayer and Foebane over his shoulders again, Onyx picked up the Burning Earth, and then walked around the skinned body to pick up the Searing Sky. The swords felt even heavier and more ill-balanced than before, augmented by their reset pommel gems with some strange power that seemed to have weight and magnetism, though whether it was physical, magical, or psychological was difficult to tell. The cavalier felt both compelled to drop the heavy burdens, but also quite reluctant to do so.  
  
He squeezed the oversized handle of the Burning Earth, while Jarek looked on in confusion. "Everything chipper, knighty?" he asked with detached concern.  
  
"The Burning Earth" Onyx muttered, "It allowed me to see the archaic past.."  
  
"And the Searing Sky." Jarek asked, with an expectant air.  
  
".will I see the future?" Onyx wondered. "Tyranodon said the world began and would end in fire and electricity.if the Burning Earth and the Searing Sky were forged of the flame and lightning that the began the world."  
  
".shall they be unforged into the elements that will be at its end?" Jarek finished. "Find out, dear cavalier."  
  
Onyx closed his eyes and squeezed the hilt of the Searing Sky. Jarek watched as the sword began to glow blue, yellow, and white, like electricity caged within crystal.  
  
Onyx opened his eyes and saw an ordinary cityscape: commoners, nobles, and adventurers going about; mostly humans. With a start, he recognized where he was: the slums of Athkatla, and it was as he usually saw it. Both wealth and poverty, loving and fighting, smiling and frowning.  
  
He blinked, and the city changed. The slums were no longer slums; there were fewer adventurers; and it was hard to distinguish nobles and commoners, indeed, he saw very little poverty and squalor, and in fact almost everyone looked like a noble. There were pedestrians walking without fear or pickpockets, merchants vending without fear of lifters, street- conjurers entertaining without fear of magic-police. He noticed also that almost every face was smiling, and if engaging a fellow citizen, whether in business or pleasure, had a look of comraderie, and that these looks came from creatures of many races. Elves and dwarves greeted one another as they went by, or even went hand in hand, as did halflings and gnomes, humans and orcs, avariel and drow, aasimar and tieflings. He saw in front of himself, in the center of the square, a boy with features both orcish and halfling, waving about a newspaper. As everyone else, he took no notice of Onyx, and brandished a newspaper right in his face. The cavalier saw the headline as it went by, "V-K DAY: MEZOBERRANZAN AND NEW MYTH DRANNOR SIGN PACT; KOZAKURA SURRENDERS TO UNITED STATES Of MAZTICA; TORIL WAR TWO ENDS!"  
  
He blinked, and the city changed. The buildings were sleeker and stronger than before, looking not like the wood-walled and thatched-roofs he was accustomed too; rather there was much more use of metal and glass, and some sort of very gray, smooth, featureless stone. He noticed that a street magician was trying unsuccessfully to conjure a trick, and a passerby trudged up to him and spoke with a grave face. More pedestrians than before walked about, but their looks were also crossed with worry, and they looked up at the sky with trepidation. He noticed also fewer manners of character than before: there were more humans, but less of all else. The paperboy turned around, but now he was a shortish human, and the wind blew a paper from his grasp. As it drifted through the air into the face of a fast-walking man wearing a silk blue suit, an extremely thin red kerchief, and holding a thin rectangular case, Onyx read the headline, "DEAD MAGIC ZONE EPIDEMIC SPREADS - NEW TODAY: SOUTH HALF OF ATHKATLA; DELRYN, DISTRICT OF CORDELL, U.S.M.; TEN-CITIES OF REPUBLIC OF ICEWIND DALE."  
  
He blinked, and now almost every pedestrian he saw was human, and walked quickly about his or her business with neither frown nor smile. There were no street magicians, no one seemed to carry any item with an enchanted glow, and the architecture grew even sleeker and more sterile, as did clothing. He noticed one scraggly man standing in the square, with a placard hung about him that read: "YOUR DIETY IS DEAD!" The paper changed direction in the wind, and sailed by his face, and he read it again, "OFFICIAL: WEAVE UNWOVEN, MYSTRA DEAD; ALSO HELM, CHAUNTEA, TALOS. "  
  
He blinked again, and now everything was smooth and clean and artificial, and all that he saw were humans, and no signs of any mage or priest. The newspaper landed upon the ground at his feet, and it now read: "DWARVES AND DRAGONS DECLARED EXTINCT, JOIN ELVES, ORCS, OTHERS."  
  
He blinked again, and the paper burned to ashes before his eyes. He looked up, and now there was no one to be seen, but bones littered the street, which like the buildings was all blackened and burnt out; shattered glass, crushed quasi-stone, and twisted metal lay about. He looked up at the darkened sky, and he saw two gigantic and faroff birdlike creatures above, but they were made of metal. They flew quickly about one another, in some sort of dogfight, shooting colored beams of light at one another. One found its mark, and the other exploded.  
  
He blinked again, and he could see no more ruins, nor anything manmade at all, but only scattered, scrubby desert plants. The sun was up, but the sky had some permanent, scorched shadow about it.  
  
He blinked again, and the plants were gone, and now from faroff he saw mountains, nay, volcanoes, for lava spewed from them, and flowed down their sides, and ash was spat forth, and covered the sky, which was thundering.  
  
He blinked again, and the lava was everywhere and ignited, and the sky utterly dark and filled with terrible thunder. Flame leapt all about his feet, and lightning crashed all about his head.  
  
He blinked again, and there was darkness. 


	19. Palace of the Apes

19. Palace of the Apes  
  
14 FLAMERULE 0500 THE UNDERSEA PALACE  
  
"Meow! Meowwwwww!!!!"  
  
Jaheira stopping in her tracks (after running for five solid hours), and close behind her halted Valygar Corthala, Minsc (nearly tripping over the stalker as he skidded to a stop), Dawn Raybringer, her little sister Bucki, her other "little sister" Buffy, and the elf Arra Flyte.  
  
Jaheira had spotted a puffy white cat ahead, and kneeled down, half- closing her ears, and reaching out to it. "Heeeere kitty kitty..." she cooed hypnotically.  
  
"No no Boo!" Minsc cried, hiding the hamster sitting on his shoulder with an enormous hand. "Jaheira does not mean you, Boo! And best you not go visit her right now, when a cat is headed her way!! When you are a hamster, cats are eeeeeevil!!!"  
  
The feline immediately meowed and bounded into the druid's arms, purring happily. Jaheira placed an index finger lightly on its forehead, and closed her own eyes. "Mr. Bigglesworth." she muttered in a trance, "You.you came from Jarek and Onyx! Let's go back there, Mr. Bigglesworth, c'mon kitty, let's go back.."  
  
She set down the cat, which turned to meow to Jaheira and cock its head, as if beckoning to follow, and follow she did, with her six companions in tow.  
  
**********  
  
Onyx popped his eyes open and the swords he held fell to the ground with each a single heavy clang, that seemed to echo across the chamber, through the rest of marble-and-crystal undersea palace, and even the very ocean outside.  
  
"Are you quite alright, my good man?" Jarek Bond arched an eyebrow at him.  
  
The cavalier looked down at the swords on the marble floor. Ancient longswords, cumbersome and ill-balanced, never meant to be held by a humanoid. "The Burning Earth.The Searing Sky.so heavy," he sighed.  
  
"Antique charm, eh?" the swashbuckler smirked.  
  
"The Burning Earth was not so unwieldy for me when I felt it before, but now.I suppose it's the pommel gem."  
  
"Mayhaps it's a two-hander for apes like us?" Jarek inquired.  
  
"No.the weight is the same no matter how it is wielded. And yet, to hold it without wielding it," the fireproof paladin demonstrated by carefully picking up the Burning Earth by the blade, "It is just another load."  
  
"To hear a frost giant of a man say such things," Jarek responded with uncharacteristic gravity, "It must be burdensome indeed. Perhaps only our extinct friend," he motioned to the decapitated body of the slain Tyranodon, "Was meant to wield it."  
  
"Yes, perhaps," Onyx nodded, but opened his bag of holding and slipped them within.  
  
Jarek was about say something, but a sound came from across the crystal- walled chamber and both men turned their heads. The lifeless body of Cyran sprang suddenly up from its puddle of blood at the edge of the chamber, and grabbed two daggers sheathed on his person. He looked up at Jarek with one eye, the other one lost in the massive bloody slash that now ran down the left side of his face. "KAAAIIIII!!!!!!!!!" he shouted and flung them straight at swashbuckler.  
  
Jarek's bracers flashed bright white, and with blurring speed, he calmly sheathed his own katanas and let his left hand drop forward to grab the shortbow on his belt while the right hand stayed a moment longer over his shoulder to pluck an arrow from the quiver across his back. The kensai continued screaming as his knives flew through the air, his back against the transparent crystal wall of the chamber that looked out to the vast ocean. Jarek strung the arrow to his bow and lifted the feathered shaft to his cheek. The swashbuckler looked along the smooth shaft and the bright- orange-colored tip, using it like a sight and lining up Cyran's heart.  
  
Without a sound, Jarek's thumb and forefinger drifted apart, and the arrow was let go. The bowstring snapped forward with hundreds of pounds of force, pushing the arrow straight down its master's line of sight. It sailed through the cold air, between the flying knives. The hastened thief turned sideways, and one dagger whizzed right over his chest while the other skirted around his back, and he twisted forward again to watch as the arrow sailed easily through the kensai's black fighting suit. But just as it touched his skin and was slowed ever so slightly, the bright orange tip of the arrow exploded. An enormous fireball occluded the kensai from view, and blew him back with tons of forces.  
  
But his back was right against the hard brittle crystal of the window wall, and within a second white cracks radiated out in all directions across the clear crystal, and it shattered, and the force of the explosion pushed the man's body through the widening hole it had created and into the ocean outside. Jarek watched in amazement as the heavy water of the ocean where the kensai now floated lifelessly began to pour in, pulling at the cracked edges of the hole, breaking them further and enlarging itself.  
  
"Let's get the hell out of here, paladin!" the swashbuckler shouted, and as he spun on his heels, he saw that Onyx was already wasting no time in bolting alongside him for the chamber's exit. "Follow me!" he yelled, and led the cavalier down the halls, which had become regrettably familiar to him during his stay here. As saltwater, and sea creatures within it, poured into the large chamber and then began rushing down the halls behind them, the cavalier and the swashbuckler ran down one hallway after another, over marble floors and past crystal windows, taking sharp turns and occasionally going up staircases; ascending to one level just as the one behind them became flooded.  
  
"What the bloody hell!?!?" Jarek demanded as he and Onyx ran up to the end of a wide hallway, which dead-ended in a smooth diagonal ramp, "This is the only staircase leading up from level!"  
  
"Was," the cavalier corrected, "It transformed into a slippery chute when we set foot upon it."  
  
The swashbuckler looked back down the long hallway behind them, the sounds of rushing water echoing. Without a word, he grabbed a potion of speed at his belt, guzzled it down, and tried to sprint up the ramp, but as soon as he stepped onto it proceeded to run in place, before falling back down with a controlled roll a few moments later.  
  
"It's magically slippery," the thief cursed. "Of all the bloody enchantments in the world! We'll never climb it."  
  
"We could fly," the paladin suggested, "I can summon a deva and."  
  
"No, the chute is too narrow," Jarek pointed up to the open space in the ceiling where the stairless stairway ascended, "She couldn't fly us through."  
  
"We could float up it with the rising waters?" the cavalier suggested, even as an inch of rushing water gathered about their feet.  
  
"Too torrential," the swashbuckler opined, looking down at the mighty splashes even the thin layer of water lapped about his boots. "It'd as likely drag us back down the chamber before it'd drag us to the stairwell."  
  
A fish swam between Onyx's boots through the now-ankle-deep water. "The top of the ramp is even visible from here," he sighed, pounding his hands together in thought, "So close and yet so far."  
  
"If those sea elves we rescued from the circus are ever going to return the favor," Jarek mused, "Now wouldn't be a bad time.."  
  
"ONYX..ONYX..." a determined, womanly voice echoed down the chute from the floor above.  
  
"Speaking of elven friends," the cavalier lit up and ran to the foot of the ramp. "Down here, Jaheira!" he called back up.  
  
As he looked up, and Jarek beside him, they could see a beautiful half-elf's face appear at the top lip of the ramp above. "Onyx!!!!" Jaheira cried. "Jarek? Jarek!! You're.you're both alive!"  
  
Another female face, long purple hair whisping over it, appeared next to the druid's. "Jarek!" she shouted down.  
  
"Hello, darling Bucki," the swashbuckler bowed politely, "I expected you'd find your way into our good company."  
  
"I thought she was the one who kidnapped you," Onyx asked skeptically out of the corner of his mouth.  
  
"We had some.quality time since," Jarek smiled sleazily back at him, "Why, she practically let me escape. I thought she'd come around soon."  
  
"You're both alive!" Bucki shouted gleefully, echoing Jaheira.  
  
"Not for long, my dear," Jarek shouted up, "If we don't get out of here punctually."  
  
"Stand back, girl," Jaheira ordered Bucki, and the assassin disappeared from the lip of the ramp. "They're not taking you, Onyx!!" she shouted down defiantly, and began to speak in tongues.  
  
"Who calls Chan, prince of air!"  
  
"I do, Chan," the druid answered as she completed her chant, looking down at the billowing air elemental that hovered halfway up the ramp, a tornado of blades whirling about him. "Give my friends a lift! And don't cut them to pieces."  
  
"A light task of little gravity for mighty Chan!" the elemental laughed, and his globe of blades swirled into nothing.  
  
".literally," Jarek grinned, and Onyx rolled his eyes. Chan whooshed down, and the two men found themselves caught up in mighty gusts of air. Jaheira dove out of the way as they skyrocketed through the air up the ramp, flew out the top and landed on their feet face-to-face with a smiling elf woman and a huge bald-headed man.  
  
"Let the winds of heroism blow!" the purple-tattooed berserker declared and nearly crushed Onyx in a bear hug.  
  
"Mmmpppf...always, Minsc," the cavalier gasped back.  
  
"Ah, darling Arra, so good to be graced by your presence once more," Jarek smiled sleazily and tried to kiss the hand that the elf promptly withdrew.  
  
"You may be alive, 007, but your charms can go to hell," the Harper scowled and spun away.  
  
No sooner had Minsc let his paladin pal go, than the knight found himself in the more reasonable (and enjoyable) embrace of the half-elf who had rescued him.  
  
"Onyx.you're alive!" she pulled off his helmet, and leaned her forehead against his as she pressed their bodies together. Their eyes, inches apart, met, and the cavalier noticed a harsh edge to her gaze. "Don't.you.ever.do.that.again!" she snarled at him, and he arched his eyebrows and twisted his mouth in an apologetic facial gesture, and her gaze softened and tears continued to well in the corners of her eyes. He began to part his lips to speak, and hers did the same, and for a moment that seemed eternal there they hung, arms squeezing and lips moistening.  
  
"Look, water! Boo and Bebe hate water! When you have fur, water is eeeeeeeevil!!!"  
  
The paladin and the druid snapped apart, and looked down the chute to see water splashing against the ramp and beginning to spray up into their chamber. Sheepishly brushing back loose stands of sun-blonded hair, Jaheira looked up at the massive ranger, who peered back with a look that seemed slightly less innocent and oblivious than his typical empty gaze.  
  
The ranger grasped the druid in a great bear hug now, and laughed, "Minsc is happy to see his paly pal again, and his witch will be too! Isn't that right, Boo?"  
  
"I don't know about you good people," Jarek spoke up, "but I for one didn't bring my swimwear, and suggest the upper exit. Shall we?" Taking Bucki's hand, he turned to run, followed by Onyx and Jaheira, with Minsc quite close behind them, followed by fellow ranger Valygar Corthala, Lathanderian crusaders Dawn Raybringer and Buffy the Undead Hunter, and elven Harper Arra Flyte. The swashbuckler led the nine-strong party down hallways and up stairs as passageways continued to flood behind them. Looking through the crystal windows down through the empty ocean at the flung-out halls and wings of the undersea palace below, the party members could see them not only flooding, but beginning to fall apart as cracks radiated down passageways and across chambers, the force of the incoming water tearing ever larger holes for itself. The large room where the chaos had begun was now utterly destroyed, and outwards from it the entire palace was getting ripped to pieces by the unfathomable force of the ocean in which it had lain calmly for millennia.  
  
At last the party came to the top floor of the palace and the last, long, lonely hallway that shot out from the underwater land and connected the undersea palace to it. The nine sped down this hallway as it was torn to fragments of crystal and marble right behind them and the water roared at their heels; and at last they passed into the underground tunnel beneath the coastline, and jogged up the steadily-steepening stairway which they had come down only hours before, the water level rising behind them; and at last, the stairway began to curl around itself and lead straight upwards in a spiral staircase, to the gnoll stronghold aboveground. But the water was rising in the dark passageway quickly, and as the party spiraled up around themselves, it reached them, and one by one they were swept off their feet on the spiraling stairwell, and began treading on the rising surface of the water as it shot up the cylindrical shaft of the stairwell, up and up, until at last a disc of sunlight was visible above them. It grew larger and larger as they looked up from their quickly rising bath, and at last it was upon them.  
  
The dawn was quiet that morning upon the rubble-strewn gnoll stronghold, its denizens dead or fled. The stairwell pit that had been opened the evening before was open still, and at last the tranquil morning scene was disturbed by loud noises of rushing water echoing up from it, and the few birds or beasts nearby quickly ran and flew away at this uncanny disturbance. And then, a geyser shot out of the hole, spraying oceanwater all over the deck of the stronghold, not to mention nine soaked and flailing adventurers who were popped out of the hole along with the advent of the water, and each went sprawling in a different direction upon the deck.  
  
Laying on his back with saltwater and seaweed falling around him from the new geyser, Onyx sprang to his feet, pulled off his gauntlets, and emptied some water and a few small fish out of them. He looked around at his companions. "Is everyone alright!?" he shouted.  
  
"Minsc and Boo and Bebe have bounced to safety once again!" boomed a deep but childlike voice.  
  
"Other than soaked dreadlocks, I'm fine," came the impassive voice of a slightly peeved stalker.  
  
"Avalanches, genocide, extinction.have we not affronted nature enough in the past twenty-four hours, now we must reroute her oceans as well?" asked the voice of an irate half-elf.  
  
"Well, you might say we just finally washed ourselves of this mission," quipped a debonair rogue's brogue.  
  
"Like, this is sooooo far out! Awesome...omigod! I broke a nail! I BROKE A NAIL! AAHHH!!!!" came the screams of a teenage paladin.  
  
"Don't worry dear, you and I are headed to the Morninglord Spa, the best salon in Amn, pronto!" sang a sunny laugh.  
  
"Good, I can get this black and purple dye out of my hair," sighed a similar but slightly younger voice.  
  
"Well, yet another mission completed, a few more bad guys slain, more friends and another man in and out of my life.now I guess I have to report back for my next assignment..oh joy, the life of a Harper," came the very sarcastic under-the-breath utterances of an elf.  
  
All the party members came to their feet, stepped away from the fountain, which was now spewing random fish and seaweed as well as ocean water, and gathered around each other at the opposite end of the stronghold, shaking the saltwater out of their hair and armor.  
  
"Mission accomplished, 006," Jarek Bond winked at Arra Flyte.  
  
"Congratulations, 007," she couldn't help smiled back.  
  
**********  
  
14 FLAMERULE 1800 NASHKEL  
  
"So Lords K. Otic and E. Vil had me on this platform that's lowering itself - really slowly, I might add - into a pool of weresharks, I'm completely tied down, and they seal the door of the chamber and then activate the self-destruct sequence."  
  
Outside it was darkening and rainy, but Jarek Bond was regaling his eight companions around a dinner table at the Belching Dragon Tavern with one of his many tales of diabolical plots, international intrigue, exotic or erotic experiences, and narrow escapes. After leaving the newly geyser- sporting gnoll stronghold, the party had made its way back to the foot of the rocky spurs of Stronghold Mountain, found safe and sound their seven horses, which Jaheira had the day before beckoned to stay put with an animal empathy more effective than any rock- or tree- bound leash, and with Jarek and Bucki sharing the horse lent by Dawn, who rode instead with Buffy, they rode down the foothills of the Cloudpeaks through the plains and scattered forests to Nashkel, where they now supped.  
  
"Weresharks!?" exclaimed the Rashemani ranger who was listening enrapt to this story of evil-stomping. "How did you escape?"  
  
The swashbuckler smiled. "Why, by cutting through my bonds with the retractable blade in my chrono-bracelet, getting to the door from the platform by assembling the grappling-crossbow components hidden in my boots, just before it sank into the wereshark-tank, opening the sealed door with the explosive jelly I use for hair-gel on missions, and dashing out of K. Otic and E.Vil's underground island lair moments before it exploded and collapsed, and then spending the next two days floating back to the mainland in a small raft containing just me, K. Otic's stash of champagne, and E. Vil's henchwoman, the Talosian priestess Clouden Electra, of course."  
  
"Ohhhhh," Minsc nodded intently and scratched his bald head, "We should have seen that one coming, Boo!"  
  
Jarek chuckled smugly and continued, "This adventure of ours, my friends, will make no less a fascinating tale."  
  
".which you can use to pick up spy babes on your next mission," came the sarcastic, bitter voice of Arra Flyte from the end of the table.  
  
"What is it about bitter elvish Harper women?" the rogue grinned devilishly, easily drawing an infernal scowl from the druid across the table. "Eh, my good man?" he winked pointedly at the cavalier next to her.  
  
"So tell me, [i]thief [/i], what next for you?" Onyx pointedly changed the subject with a calm scowl, reaching under the table to gently restrain Jaheira's hand before she lifted it to lunge over the table and throttle the male Harper.  
  
"Oh," Jarek mused as he reached under the table himself with the hand nearer Bucki Raybringer beside him, "I think I'll stay the night here." he added as he caught the purple-haired girl's eye, "And report back to the Harpers in good time."  
  
"That was about our plan," Dawn spoke, and her younger sister next to her smiled. "We'll depart for Lathander's house in Athkatla just after dawn."  
  
"Cool!" Buffy chirped on the priestess's other side. "Just gimme time after prayers to do my hair, k?" She blew a bubble with the weird gummy stuff in her mouth, and Boo, nibbling a piece of cheese and sitting with Bebe on the shoulder of the large ranger next to the undead hunter, squeaked excitedly when it popped.  
  
"I'll leave tonight," Arra said flatly. "The dark's no problem for me," she muttered as she looked away with stereotypically elven aloofness.  
  
"But you've not slept!" Dawn protested.  
  
"Technically, we elves don't," Arra wrote it off without meeting the cleric's concerned gaze.  
  
"Actually," Onyx spoke up as if he'd just remembered something, and smiled charismatically at his companions, "I too, as wonderful as your company is, was planning on leaving after dinner myself." The druid beside him looked at the ceiling, scowling; but the cavalier turned his attention to his ranger buddies.  
  
"Ah yes!" Minsc lit up as he handed Boo and Bebe another slice of cheese. "Evil's butt is very sore - for now - and Minsc and Boo and Bebe and Onyx will surely see there fellow heroes in Athkatla very soon, but for now Minsc must return with Onyx to Candlekeep, to protect his witch!"  
  
Valygar thoughtfully nodded and spoke, "Yes, my strong friends, we should reunite with.the mages." He exchanged nods with Onyx, and both glanced at Jaheira, who had a face of stone.  
  
Jaheira sarcastically replied, "Valygar Corthala, eager to see mages? Well that's a new one. What gives?" and gave an expectant look.  
  
The normally stoic stalker grew fidgety and shifty-eyed, but it passed when Onyx answered for him, "Val's right, J. We need to get back - to the rest of [i]our[/i] party."  
  
The druid looked back at him, her lips pulled tight into a little frown. Then, without a word, she sprang up from her nearly-untouched dinner, and marched through the crowded room out the front doors of the Belching Tavern into the rain.  
  
"Jaheira, wait!" Onyx shouted, then hopped up and ran after her, charging around the many other patrons gathered in the tavern on this rainy night, past an extremely buxom and immodestly clag waitress without a second glance.  
  
"Go get her, stud!" the serving girl laughed.  
  
"Well hey," Jarek called out to the young lady, smirking with a lascivious gaze that was not lost on Bucki, "It's her party, she'll cry if she wants to."  
  
Buffy, seemingly oblivious to the tension, started drumming the table and singing, "Cry if I want to, cry if I want to..,  
  
Overcast dusk was upon the world outside, and the rain was heavy and blew hard from the west, right into Onyx's eyes as he charged out the front door of the Belching Dragon. [i] It'll be raining in Candlekeep most likely, it's a big mid-Flamerule storm, [/i] he thought almost reflexively.  
  
"Jaheira!" he called, shielding his eyes and peering through the deathly weak dusk light. He saw her ahead, trudging through the mud down the hamlet's main thoroughfare, and sprinted up to her.  
  
"It's [i]your[/i] party now," she called back without slowing down or turning around.  
  
"Jaheira, wait! P-please!" he called again. [i] Tempus's teeth! [/i] he thought, [i] I've never stuttered before in my life! I sound like Khalid! [/i]  
  
"A valiant and kind warrior stolen away by a pathetic, crippled, and selfish elf-mage? Yeah, I'd say you do," Jaheira spat bitterly as she turned to face him.  
  
[i] Don't speak of Aerie like that! [/i] Onyx snarled on the inside, and he let his face fall into a hurt sneer as he realized all his charisma, as genuine as his motives might be, would be for naught here.  
  
"Don't worry," Jaheira shrugged sarcastically, "You already chose her over me, that's what you're supposed to say back. That's your duty, right? That's your chivalry, yes? That's your devotion, is it not?"  
  
"Stop it, Jaheira," Onyx declared firmly, "You speak to me like an enemy. I'm your friend, Jaheira. I thought we were supposed to be soulmates." Jaheira's look turned sad and inwardly bitter, and tears began to flow freely over her rain-streaked face. "You will always be my companion. I love you, Jaheira, in every way it is possible for me to; as much as Imoen; and in some ways, closer than her, or Aerie."  
  
"But not in that way. It's just because you're growing up, Onyx, and I am a woman. Aerie, like Imoen, is still a girl. You are like two of yourself, the man and the boy, both taken from different times and caught together in this time. Would the boy I saw who'd come from Candlekeep that same day, have taken my heart, or I his, even without a Khalid? I think not. Would the man who is now going to go there this night, if this all started now, have taken my heart, and I his, even with an Aerie? I think so. But it all happened in between, the day we began in a mad elf's lab and ended in a mad gnome's circus. And the man and the boy were ever at war, in all things. I've seen them war the fourteen wonderful and terrible months I've known you; and I've seen you grow up, and now you're finally understanding the world, as you've been proving even more within this last, long day. The man is winning in your head, Onyx, but the boy already won in your heart."  
  
The youth nodded and the half-elf continued. "And I'm sorry, dear Onyx, but I can't stand it anymore. I just can't. It's not fair to you, and it's not really fair to me either. At first, I never really believed you'd go for the whinepigeon, with or without me, who still absorbed with my own concerns. I'm sure I'd have seen the signs on your face, I'm good at these things, but I was so absurd; and I was in denial about it, as I was about my husband, and myself and my feelings. Then, when it happened, I wrote it off as a fling, an unrestrained urge; and nursed the memory of Khalid and ignored it. Then it subsided with you and her, as I thought it would, and I was willing to let him go. But when the flames leapt again, finally I admitted it, and I saw the love that it was. But then she was taken away, and guilt racked away any thought of opportunity, and soon enough she was back again.  
  
"And then I hated her, and I felt hate for you. Scorn, for your boyish passions and simplistic views, and all throughout the war, the anger kept it all away. I thought I was over it, and a good thing, because we needed out focus for the battles we fought then. I was sure I was over it. But now, Onyx.you can tell that, on this adventure, I lost that. If you'd kept giving me the cold shoulder and the rhetorical one-liners, I could have too, but now you've become wiser, and so nice and kind and compassionate, and I can't hate you anymore, I can barely stay angry, and I've been forced to quit denying that I still love you. And I can't stop seeing that you love her. I promised not to spy on your thoughts, but in only the few hours since, the power has grown, and now I can't stop. I'm sorry! I can't look at you, or even be around you, without feeling, [i]seeing[/i], your love for her, and so I can see there isn't a shadow of a hope for us. It hurts too much, and so I have to go, away from you, and from the friends that I hardly get along with anyway. You've grown up; and are no longer my charge, and will not be my lover, and I cannot be just your friend. Do not follow me now, do not have the rangers track me later, this is where our road ends. This is goodbye, Onyx of Candlekeep."  
  
The cavalier felt a blow upon his chest more powerful than any he knew. Several images of past battles flashes through his mind, and it was as if all at once he were slashed by the sword of Sarevok, burned by the breath of Firkraag, blasted by the magic of Irenicus, lashed by the tentacle of Demogorgon, skewered by the harpoon of Amelyssan, impaled by the holier-than-thou avenger of the Jester, and then devoured in the maw of Tyranodon.  
  
He fell to his knees, clutching his hands over his heart, and looked up at Jaheira, tears streaming freely.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, with a face as red and sad as his, and with a look of pain and sorrow, turned away.  
  
"Will I ever see you again?" he asked as he cried.  
  
"If you do," she turned back and looked over her shoulder at him for one last glance of both regret and foreboding, "You'll wish you hadn't."  
  
As she took her first step, she seemed to crouch to the ground, and began to shapeshift, her beautiful but muscular frame becoming thinner and shorter, her hair and clothes and gear becoming like fur, and then she was a wolf, and dashed away and was gone.  
  
The cavalier knelt and wept until at last he felt a hand, warm and gentle and light, upon his shoulder, and looked up to see before him the angelic figure of Dawn Raybringer. She was bright, even in the falling darkness, almost mystical, as if haloed in sunrays.  
  
"I failed," he squinted through his tears up at her, and he found that the rain ceased to fall upon his face, even though it still fell around him, and saw also that it did not seem to be pelting the priestess. "You told me this might happen, and what do to, and still I failed."  
  
"No, dear Onyx," she spoke down to him with mercy and kindness, "You did not. I said what would happen if you did not reach out to her, but not if you did. You did the best that you could, and nothing that you should have done could have prevented it. You have walked a fine line between faithfulness to your true love, and compassion to your closest companion, and walked it well. Look forward, not back, for being true is not enough, now your true love needs..well, the love, and attention and compassion, as does your sister. As much as I regret to part company with you so soon, dear Onyx, when you leave tonight with your rangers for the north and I leave in the morning with my sisters for the south, I feel optimistic that I shall see you again soon, in the house of the Morninglord. And," she gently lifted his chin up with one curled index finger, and catching his gaze, winked down at him playfully, "I should not be your [i]only[/i] reason for returning to our Lord's Athkatlan home in due time."  
  
She wordlessly coaxed him to follow her gaze up to the dark, pouring sky. "This storm has fallen upon the entire Sword Coast, and will not pass idly or soon. Go to Candlekeep; in your absence your lover has seen sorrow and strife, as has your sister. They are strong and overcome them, but shadows fall across even their good and innocent faces, and no less does their friend long for your and the rangers' return. And you have yet to confront the spectres I foresaw."  
  
**********  
  
14 FLAMERULE 1700 CANDLEKEEP  
  
"Ewww!! This rain is just terrible for my hair!" whined a slight, almost feminine, man with long blonde hair spilling over shiny armor that bore the looking-glass of Sune.  
  
"Why we out here now anyway? It far too dark to see nothing!" bellowed a huge man with greasy black hair, impatiently thumping his armor, which bore the scales of Tyr.  
  
"I told you, you dolt! To explain your positions!" griped a medium- height man with curly black hair and a goatee, folding his arms condescendingly over a breastplate that bore the gauntlet of Helm.  
  
Another man fitting exactly this description sighed, "You want yourself and Adonis to hide on the walls with crossbows? Isn't that a bit..assassinish?"  
  
"Y'know," Adonis, the blonde-haired knight, said as he waved a wrist, 'I heard last night some actual Shadow Thieves did that to peg that de'Arnise girl."  
  
"Silence, insubordinate fools!" cried the first Helmite. Turning to the other, he hissed, "You have my orders, Anomen! You and Judas meet him in the courtyard, Adonis and I will be on the ramparts! It's simple!"  
  
"If you're ranking officer." Anomen mused, "Shouldn't [i]you[/i] meet him, Puritus?"  
  
The fellow Helmite grew shifty-eyed, "Well, uh..Adonis and I are the b-best with the bows and..well, you know him personally, and Judas is more of a melee type and all, and uh."  
  
"How you even know where he come?" Judas scratched his head, befuddled. "What about the rangers or others with him? What if he meets up with the mage girls first?"  
  
"Simple," Puritus grinned, and licked his lips. "We just keep our watch for him, as usual. Now, when they see him approaching, Anomen, you tell Jondalar that what's-her-name is in the library and wanted our mark to know when he arrives. If I know our man, he'll want to see her first - alone, and he'll send his woodland pals to play with the horses or something. Once he's alone, you and Anomen here call him over, to this spot here, and then say what I told you, and Adonis and I will be up above in case things get.hairy. It's brilliant! I'm brilliant! Dad will be so proud!" 


	20. Lawful Awful Stupid Skirmish Showdown

20. Lawful Awful Stupid Skirmish Showdown [i] Torm, I strive for The charisma to change evil when I can, The strength to destroy evil when I must, And the wisdom to recognize each, Amen. [/i] - Sir Maximus Prime of Longsaddle [i] Topsy-turvy, who's to say, What's right, what's wrong; but be that your way, And I see no up, I see no down, Then how could I say that you were the clown? [/i] - Jakk'Dalis, [i]Riddles of the Jester[/i]  
  
15 FLAMERULE 0500 CANDLEKEEP  
  
"Captain, three horsemen approach!" yelled a guard from atop the gate of Candlekeep, upon which rain fell from an overcast predawn sky.  
  
It was so. Onyx of Candlekeep, Minsc of Rasheman, and Valygar Corthala were riding hard, even as they came to their destination, Candlekeep, and halted just before the gate. After the departure of Jaheira and a farewell parting from the rest of their Athkatla-bound company in Nashkel at dinner the night before, they had ridden through the night, dispatching a few attacking highway-robber men and hobgoblins along the way, all from horseback with deftly shot arrow and mightily thrown axe, without breaking stride. They had stopped only once, very briefly in Beregost, to see mayor Keldath Ormlyr once again and to tell him of the ultimate success of the mission, and the defeat of the mastermind of the slave-trade, that had sold to the Chaos Circus the now-freed victims that the good mayor had been instrumental in returning to their homes.  
  
And now, after riding from Nashkel through the night, riding from the gnoll stronghold the previous day, and fighting through it and the undersea palace the previous night and the day before, the two rangers and the paladin, beginning their third day without sleep, came to Candlekeep with great longing in their hearts that had brought them as quickly as if in the balance still hung the fates of the thousands who now would never know bondage, who would not become what Aerie had been made so long ago; one of so many pawns in the last game of Tyranodon, the ancient creature who manipulated the demihuman races, not by fighting them himself, but through the instrument of slavery, which by nature pits them against one another, finding like beasts and not men. But now the true monster was slain, yet the three still rode to Candlekeep, towards a free and avenged Aerie, and Imoen, and Nalia, as swiftly as if this were the final and most important leg of the quest. Because for them, in a way, it was.  
  
But Tyranodon's game was not quite over, for though he was gone, and struggled not against men, what he had wrought would now bring them to arms against one another one more time.  
  
The three men dismounted, and Onyx, helmless and in his shining blue dragonscales, raised an empty right gauntlet and greeted the guard who met them at the foot of the wall.  
  
"Hark, Sir Onyx!" cried Jondalar, captain of the guards, having come out himself to see for the first time in fourteen-and-a-half months the youth that under his guidance and first learned the ways of a swordsman, and now returned with the bearing of a man, and the repute of a (slightly controversial) hero.  
  
"Hail, Captain Jondalar," the cavalier smiled. The two men exchanged a mighty handshake and roared with laughter, falling into a backslapping hug.  
  
"You know the rules," the guard captain sighed. "Please tell me you brought a book! Of course," he looked back at the gate furtively, "I've got the one that the last guy brought me still handy."  
  
The cavalier chuckled and drew forth a tome. "This one should do. Found it night before last in an undersea palace, would you believe?"  
  
"Well, well!" Jondalar laughed heartily. "You'll have to tell me more of your stories tonight around some mugs of ale! Why, I can't even read it title of this tome though, not even recognize the language.but no matter!" he laughed as Onyx returned a shrug. "I'm sure Phlydia can identify it. She's a lorekeeper of Oghma now! Why," he winked, "I'll bet you'll be wanting to see her again, young man! She sends word she's in her quarters in the library."  
  
"Phlydia." a faraway look came over the cavalier's eyes, and he looked up into the clouds and the rain. "Yes.I should see her."  
  
His attention was snapped back when the gate opened and his ranger friends led the horses through, and he dashed after them, while Jondalar chuckled heartily.  
  
"How you friends holding up?" Onyx patted the backs of the sturdy rangers.  
  
"Oh - YAWN - fine," Valygar's mouth stretched as he looked at the paladin, who didn't seem to be even a mite tired. "You and that endless stamina," he chuckled.  
  
"Boo says Bebe wants breakfast now!" Minsc spoke up. "Bebe has been eating a lot lately, Boo says! And throwing it up in the mornings."  
  
"Alright," Onyx laughed, "The best - well, only - place is Winthrop's, a.k.a. the Candlekeep Inn, it's at the northwestern corner of town, against the outer wall. I tell you what, you guys stash the horses - there's a stable right next to the inn - and order up breakfast, I'll duck into the library; but I'll be with you in just a minute."  
  
".Wouldn't brave Onyx rather see Aerie first?" Minsc gave the paladin a slap on the back, a bit hard even by the standards of bonhomie between the mighty warriors. "We all miss our witch, don't we, Boo!"  
  
"Yes, and Nalia. And Imoen, of course," Valygar added with a smile.  
  
"They won't be awake yet, I bet," Onyx shook his head, "Let's let 'em finish their beauty sleep - not that a one of 'em needs it, and surprise 'em when they come down in the morning. I'll only be a minute."  
  
With that the cavalier split off from the rangers, who led the horses to the right, around the north side of the inner wall, and Onyx began to make a beeline straight for the gate through it.  
  
"Hark, you there! Sir Onyx!" called a figure from across the grassy courtyard to his left, before he had gotten through the gate in the inner wall. Onyx looked left, peered through the rain at the tall armored figure who spoke, and at the shorter armored figure next to him, who appeared to be none other than Sir Anomen Delryn.  
  
"Greetings, Anomen!" Onyx called cheerily and waved, as if ignoring or forgetting the bad terms on which they'd last parted, less than a tenday ago, though it seemed to both like an age. "And who is your friend? He's nearly the size of Minsc! A Tyrran, by the look of him." Onyx walked toward the men, who approached him, and the met in the outer courtyard to the south of the library, between the inner and outer walls of Candlekeep.  
  
"Sir Judas Iscarias, justknight of Tyr indeed!" the taller man spoke. "And Sir Anomen Delryn, watcher of Helm!"  
  
"So I have heard," Onyx smirked with lighthearted sarcasm at the second, obviously needless introduction. "Tell me, Anomen," he questioned the Helmite, with a suspicious air, "What brings you to Candlekeep, with company?"  
  
"I will make no pleasantries or smalltalk about it," Anomen puffed, "Sir Onyx - blast it, what's your last name, or do you even have one, anyway?"  
  
"A question and an answer for another day," the cavalier said simply.  
  
"Well then, Sir Onyx, you are under arrest conduct unbecoming a knight: for illegal use of evil weaponry, for illegal association with known evil witches, for illegal execution of an illegal mission, and for illegal methods of interrogation. You are to come with us immediately to the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart where you will stand court martial."  
  
".and face." Onyx put on a penchant face, as if he were carefully considering a voluntary opportunity.  
  
".well, it will be decided there," Anomen copped out, "but I'd expect, if not further penalties.explusion!!" he hung on the last word like it were a death sentence.  
  
Onyx began to laugh out loud, causing Judas's face to tighten and Anomen's to go slackjawed. "Truly, truly ridiculous. If you were other than Sir Anomen Delryn, that is to say someone possessed of a sense of humor, I'd think this a joke, but as it stands I will merely infer you are acting on actual orders from some incompetent, if not corrupt, official of the Order." Onyx smirked while Anomen and Judas exchanged unconfident glanced. "I have an offer for you."  
  
"It was no offer, it was an order." Judas stated firmly.  
  
"Well, then mine is an offer," Onyx retorted, "I will not accompany you back to Athkatla just now; but I expect I shall be there again in good time. You may return to the Order, and conduct a trial without me, and expel me or whatever you feel like." He smiled and shrugged with both authentic and projected nonchalance, and an utterly shocked look passed over Anomen's face at his flippant attitude. "Or the Order's judging bureaucrats may wait until I return, and then face trial with me there. Expel me, ban me from entering the Order, whatever," he smiled again at Anomen, "But know that I will not stand for so-called penalties such as fines or imprisonment, which infringe upon my own rights rather than strip me of Order-bequeathed privileges, for I have done nothing that another good adventurer could or would not do."  
  
"Good is not the issue, lawfulness is," Judas growled, looking down at Onyx and touching the scales-of-justice emblem on his breastplate.  
  
"Then you admit they need not align," the cavalier gazed up with his steel blue eyes into the Tyrran's sea green, smiling calmly.  
  
"They..that's not an issue here!" Judas balked, losing the confidence his great height usually instilled.  
  
"No, that's [i]the[/i] issue here, my friends," Onyx continued, with a voice that was quite confident, but not quite smug. "Behind what you are doing here today, and what you are doing with your lives."  
  
Judas and Anomen exchanged nervous glances, and the Helmite spoke first. "What we are doing with our lives is being [i]knights, mister[/i] Onyx. And our job is to align the two ideals, which you seem to have forgotten."  
  
"[i]Forgotten[/i]?" Onyx arched an eyebrow. "How about [i]tried[/i]. Is it always possible?"  
  
"Of course!" Anomen said reflexively.  
  
"Good is objective and universal, yes?" Onyx inquired.  
  
"Of course," Anomen said more thoughtfully.  
  
"And law can change, if you move over land, or in time?" Onyx inquired.  
  
"Well, yes," Anomen shrugged.  
  
"So..." Onyx nodded his head suggestively.  
  
Anomen thought carefully for a second and smiled. "It's because, within limits, what can be good can actually be a function of the law, that law is mutable is no contradiction, for all other circumstances of situation are mutable too. There is a value in obeying conventions, for example law may provide for certain allowed assumptions in contracts."  
  
"I agree," Onyx nodded, "But surely, in say, drow society.."  
  
"When we say lawful we speak of just laws," Judas added quickly.  
  
"Fair enough, if after-the-fact," Onyx shrugged, "So we speak now of justice instead of laws."  
  
"It's not semantic," Anomen answered the sarcastic tinge on Onyx's voice. "Justice, too, is universal."  
  
"And how do we mortals determine it?" Onyx asked.  
  
"Well, for our purposes today, studying the chivalric code will do," Anomen replied after a hesitant moment of though.  
  
Onyx answered, "Even if you are correct in that a most knights wouldn't behave this way, which I can believe, rhat doesn't mean they shouldn't. Heck, I could go on about the things most of us do wrong."  
  
Anomen looked increasingly hesitant and merely said, "Such things are not for me to judge."  
  
".a knight never surrenders his own judgment." Onyx countered. Anomen balked and felt a sense of déjà vu.  
  
"Onyx!" Anomen pleaded. "You'll be expelled from the Order!"  
  
"Do you know what the different between you and me, is, [i]Sir[/i] Delryn?" Onyx asked with a calm stare. "For you, your official knighthood was the most important day of your life. For me, it was the least important of the last four things I had done; the other three being the deeds for which the fourth wad conferred - routing a corrupt baron and parlaying with peaceful 'monsters' in Imnesvale - a discussion of its own we should have, as I've been thinking on this lately - and bodyguarding a spoiled but innocent girl.. It's the deeds that make us noble, not the titles."  
  
"Enough!" Judas growled, and looked down at Anomen, who seemed troubled.  
  
Anomen stammered. ".I.uh..Onyx.I have my orders. YOU ARE UN- UNDER ARREST!"  
  
As Anomen's cracking voice ceased, Judas put his hands behind his head and began to draw out his enormous two-handed holy sword.  
  
Onyx had appraised the two before him carefully. Judas stood a little to his left, Anomen to his right. He had been resting his hands on his belt with pretended casualness, just happening to put his left palm against the hilt of the Axe of the Unyielding, and the right palm against the hilt of the Flail of Ages.  
  
As Judas's sword came cleaving through the air in a huge overhead swing, Onyx heard the unexpected but unmistakable clicks of crossbows firing from both his right and left. Thinking quickly, he began stepping forward into a low kneel, while pulling the axe and the flail out from his belt. As he moved forward and down, he caught Judas's gaze, and looked deep into the other paladin's deep green eyes and smirked. Judas looked into the other paladin's steel blue eyes, and something about the man's face worried him. It wasn't quite a scolding look, but the look of a man who is quite sure of himself, and is watching you making a fatal mistake.  
  
As Onyx's left knee touched the grass and two bolts flew through the air over his head, he swung his left arm forward with the Axe of the Unyielding, slicing into Judas's leg, whose sword, still arcing down, fell down behind the cavalier, who was practically at the Tyrran's feet and safely inside the sword radius. Onyx simultaneously swung the Flail of Ages around for an underhand whiplash toward Anomen's ankles. While the axe made a clean vorpal slice straight through Judas's lower leg and severed it just below the knee, the five heads of the flail snaked around Anomen's lower legs, crackling with elemental energy and interrupting the priest's chant.  
  
Onyx heard the two snipers, whom he had yet to spot, fire their crossbows again and pulled back and up out of his crouch. Judas, with his huge sword held forward, was caught off balance on his one remaining foot, and began to topple forward, and Anomen's legs were swept out from under him by the flail's grasp as Onyx pulled back. The result was that Judas and Anomen soon occupied the air Onyx just had, and a bolt went flying into each of them, piercing even their enchanted full plate. The cavalier found himself rightfully apprehensive of the apparent power of the invisible crossbows, but wasted no time in pulling his flail far enough back to sweep Anomen flat on his back, while strapping his axe to his belt again. Judas was lying face-first in the mud, struggling to pull out his greatsword, which had plunged several feet into the earth. Anomen was beginning another chant on his back, and while Onyx reached for his longsword Namarra, sheathed on his back, he twirled the flail to unwrap it from Anomen's ankles and then brought it back and around for an overheard swing.  
  
As Onyx unsheathed the Neversleep sword, all sound around him was immediately dimmed, and he did not hear the next twin clicks of the crossbows as his flail arced over his head. While he brought the flail down onto Anomen's chest, disrupting the priest's chant and sending ripples of the weapon's alteration magic through him, he pointed the sword forward and squeezed the handle. Namarra glowed briefly and a spell shot from its tip. Anomen had already begun yet another chant, but he felt his mouth moving sluggishly as the flail's full impact washed over him, and when the sword's spell burst in front of him, his string of strange syllables was cut off even as his tongue continued to flap. Onyx also noticed Judas's grumbles suddenly silenced, but then he felt bolts piercing the armor on both his arms and sink into his biceps.  
  
Onyx grimaced, but turned and began to run while resheating Namarra and snatching an invisibility potion at his belt. Trying to hold the potion, with a bolt in the arm's bicep, he was barely able to get it to his lips before dropping it, and as he consumed it, he looked down and could see the grass through his own now-invisible legs. He stopped in his tracks and hit the dirt. He smiled when he saw two bolts fly several feet in front of him - he'd predicted that the snipers would guess their suddenly-invisible mark to maintain trajectory. He heard the crossbows clicking again, and realized unhappily that, though invisible, his prostrate form was making a very large and very visible imprint in the mud. He quickly rolled aside just as two bolts struck the ground where he had just been. He realized that he was both making a muddy trail of footprints, and making a seemingly hollow space devoid of falling rain. He was invisible, but not undetectable in this foul weather. The next bolt missed by a mile, but the one after came straight for him, but mercifully ricocheted off his helmet. Despite the ring in his ears the projectile from the obviously-high-powered launcher was causing, he kept running, pulling the bolts out of his arms so that the wounds would start regenerating, and soon was against the outer wall of the keep. He went along it until he found a ladder leading up to the ramparts, and began to scale it.  
  
Adonis Narcissus laid low on the ramparts of the outer wall, his crossbow pointing into the courtyard below. He had been expertly tracing the muddy footprints and deflected raindrops caused by the invisible man, and had seen his last bolt bounce off him. But then his quarry had effectively disappeared against the rough background of a section of the outer wall further along the rampart. Adonis fired randomly at the junction of the ground and the wall, expecting his prey would be running along the edge. He leaned a bit further over, and fired below himself, lest Onyx now be below him at the foot of the wall.  
  
Then Adonis looked the other way, on the other side of where the man had disappeared, and noticed a ladder. He became quite scared as its possibilities occurred to him. He fired a few shots at the ladder, but hit nothing, then began firing along the level of the rampart itself. He nearly pissed in his armor when one of his bolts bounced off the air. Suddenly, at just that point, Onyx materialized out of the air, now holding the gigantic Fortress Shield in his left hand and spinning the Flail of Ages overhead in his right. Onyx whipped forward, and crashed the flail's heads into Adonis's heavy crossbow. The Sune-worshipping knight screamed like a girl as electricity and acid burned his fingers and the crossbow slipped from them and clattered to the ground.  
  
Meanwhile, back in the courtyard, Judas stoically grimaced against the pain of his severed leg. Vorpal wounds are the epitome of clean wounds, and like them, they heal quickly and get infected less, but are extremely painful. Vorpal severed limbs are actually quite easy to reattach with magical healing, as the perfectly flat faces of the cut will fit easily, and this is what Judas was now trying to do. He tried to call to the priest lying beside him for healing, but only silence came out of his mouth, and this made him realize Anomen wouldn't have been able to cast a spell anyway. The paladin smiled as he remembered his own subvocal healing ability, and as he pressed his severed limb against the stump beneath his knee, he willed the healing power of his hands upon the wound.  
  
And nothing happened.  
  
Judas tried again, and still nothing happened. He searched within himself, and tried to find his holy powers, but he could not. Worried, he reached over to his sword, which lay stuck into the ground, to grab the hilt and feel the reassuring power of a holy avenger when it was in your grasp. But as he moved his hand around the hilt, an invisible force, liked repelling magnetism, pushed him away. Then he remembered the look Onyx had given him as he fell into a crouch, the calm, knowing stare of the famed cavalier as he was attacked by a fellow paladin. Judas had thought Onyx was smirking at the tactical blunder that had allowed him to dodge his blow and sever his leg, but now he realized it had been a moral blunder over which the cavalier had given him that look. Judas broke into a cold sweat as the answer finally dawned on him. He was fallen.  
  
The sharp pain of his yet-unhealed leg snapped his attention away the abysmal sinking of his heart, and he rolled onto his back, and pulled a large healing potion off his belt with his right hand. While using his left hand to hold the severed leg flush against the stump, he uncapped and chortled the potion with his right, and to his relief he could feel the flesh of his stump reach out and grow against the flesh of the severed limb. He realized, though, that the severed part was not returning the favor, as its bloodstream was of course disconnected, and so the potion wasn't getting to it, causing the wound to close asymmetrically and leave him with a useless limb.  
  
Regretfully, he winced and forcibly popped his reattached lower leg back off the stump, and took out another healing potion. This time, rather than ingesting it he poured it over the both faces of the slice, and pressed them together. Healing potions can work topically as well as by ingesting, though not as well, and the lower and upper leg slowly began fusing together. Once he felt the circulation return to the severed leg, he drank the rest of the potion. Now he could feel it getting into his reconnected bloodstream and the tissues reconnecting much faster. He drew out another and drank, and the feeling returned to his foot and he found he was becoming able to move it again. The sheared tibia and fibula bones each fused, the muscles began complete again, and the skin grew back together; but he was left with only a neat ring of a scar around his leg just below the knee.  
  
Back up on the outer rampart, Adonis screeched as the crossbow left his hands. Onyx had approached Adonis on the south rampart from the west, which would put his shield arm toward the inside of the Keep, and sure enough, a bolt came flying from the sniper on the inner wall's rampart, and glanced off the Fortress Shield. Adonis held his two ornate shortswords out - Onyx caught himself appraising his foe's handsomeness, and realized that the shortswords looked like small versions of his own Blade of Roses. He noticed the emblems of Sune on the man's armor.  
  
"A paladin of...[i]Sune[/i]?" Onyx asked incredulously.  
  
Adonis sighed. "Oh boy, I get that sooo much. Yes, silly, a paladin of Sune!" He grew cross and charged Onyx with his shortswords waving wildly. The cavalier stuck his large shield forward to meet both of them, and another bolt came sailing for his now-exposed side but mercifully the fortress shield magically deflected that one too. The cavalier found himself wishing he had his fiance's reflective shield - then he could take out the other sniper without even having to find his position!  
  
The small, wiry paladin of Sune bounced off the larger paladin's tower shield, but soon charged again, this time slashing one sword low and the other high. Onyx moved his shield up to block the high one, and swung his flail down and wrapped its heads around the low ones and the man's left forearm behind it. He pushed the man's upper body and right arm back with his shield, and pulled his left arm toward him with his ensnarled flail, and with the quick jerky movement managed to half-disarm of the weak paladin.  
  
"Yeow!" Adonis yelled as his off blade was pulled from his left hand by the flail. He quickly brought his remaining weapon down under the shield and stabbed forward, using the momentum from the pull. The rosy shortsword plunged into Onyx's stomach, through his blue dragonscales, through his thick abs and just under his ribcage, but the impaled cavalier managed to knee Adonis in the face, sending him back, and the shortsword sliding back out of his belly before it cut into his intestines.  
  
As the Sune-paladin's right arm fell back, Onyx brought his shield down on it hard, smashing the man's wrist against the ground and breaking it audibly, and nearly severing the entire hand. Onyx stepped on the flat of the sword with his left foot and easily slid it away under his boot. He lifted the shield and brought his flail around for an underhand swing at Adonis's head, but the roseknight had pulled a dagger out of his own boot with his left hand and successfully stabbed Onyx in the stomach again just as the flail smashed into the face of his helmet. He was knocked back onto the stones, and Onyx ignored the dagger lodged in his belly while he charged forward and brought his flail down in a massive overhead swing upon Adonis's head. Even through the helmet, he managed to give Adonis a concussion, and the paladin of Sune went limp on the stones.   
  
Yet another bolt whizzed harmlessly near Onyx, and the cavalier strapped his flail to his belt, crouched down, and held his shield toward the courtyard, completely blocking himself from the sniper. He pulled the dagger out of his stomach, and while his two stomach gashes were regenerating, he gripped one hand onto his axe hilt to speed the healing, and pressed the other over the wounds to stifle the profuse bleeding. Once they had ceased, he reached into the bag of holding at his belt and pulled a length of rope from it. With both hands, he tied Adonis's feet together. He then tied the other end of the rope around one of the outer guardstones of the wall, and then grabbed and easily lifted the Sunite's small, rather feminine body. The knotted knight regained consciousness just in time to feel himself getting tossed over the edge of the rampart, and shrieked wildly as he began to fall. He screamed again when he suddenly stopped falling and realized that he was suspended in midair, almost flush with the outside of the keep wall, dangling upside-down with a rope around his feet, and staring at an inverted scene of the coastline stretching south of Candlekeep. Upside-down cows peered down from the grass-and-mud "ceiling" of his field of vision and mooed curiously.  
  
"I'll be back; just hang around," Onyx quipped and downed another invisibility potion.  
  
Back in the courtyard, Judas now stood on two solid legs, and then loaded and aimed his crossbow up at Onyx just in time to see Adonis get thrown over the rampart and disappear. He fired potshots but didn't hit anything, and he noticed Puritus doing the same from atop the inner rampart behind him. Anomen, too, had gotten to his feet and had silently armed his sling, but then the cavalier vanished from sight again.  
  
"To the ladders, you fools!" Puritus called from atop the inner wall. "He'll have to come back down the ladders!"  
  
Judas and Anomen each began running to the bases of the two ladders that ran up outer wall, one on either side of where Onyx had disappeared. Puritus continued making potshots at the outer rampart with his crossbow; unlike Adonis, he wasn't clever enough to notice the slight rain-silhouette the cavalier was making. In fact, he didn't even notice the strange indentation that suddenly appeared in a stack of hay at the base of the outer wall. Nor did he notice the line of muddy footprints that began forming next to this haystack and grew in a straight line towards the base of the wall that he stood upon. Nor did it occur to him that his shout to Judas and Anomen could have given away to his prey his position behind the guardstones of the inner rampart.  
  
While Anomen and Judas stood near the bases of their respective ladders, and Anomen wiggled his mouth hoping his powers of speech would return so he could cast a detect invisibility or true sight spell, a deva suddenly materialized from nowhere at the base of the inner wall, just below where Puritus had shouted from.  
  
Puritus was still making potshots when a deva suddenly flew up into his field of vision just in front of him. He nearly dropped his crossbow in terror, and when he did shoot it at her, it bounced off an invisible thing or force just in front of her, and then Puritus realized in even greater terror that the deva had her arms clasped as if she had them around the waist of an invisible man. Then she flew over the guardstones and let go, and Puritus could hear a crunch of two heavy boots just in front of him. Onyx materialized out of the air, holding his large shield in front of Puritus's crossbow and beginning a swing with his flail. Puritus immediately countered with the turn-and-run-like-a-coward technique, and the heads of the Flail of Ages raked lightly across the back of his armor. He jumped off the inner edge of the wall and landed in a thick flowerbed, and while the deva swooped down after him, he made a bolt for the front door of the library itself. He heard the flowerbed crunch again as Onyx landed after him, and opened and ran through the doors just as a throwing axe lodged itself in the oakwood where his head and just been.  
  
Judas and Anomen had seen the action on the inner rampart from their positions and began running towards it. When both Puritus and Onyx leaped over the inside of the wall, they headed for the gate leading through the inner wall and to the library. But just as they passed through the gate, the deva swooped down at them. Anomen hit the dirt in terror, but she grabbed Judas by the back. He struggled and waved his crossbow around, but could not aim it at her, and the deva was strong, and he could not break her grasp. She flew him high up and outside the Keep, over the water, and dropped him in.  
  
"HEEELP!!" he shouted as he splashed into the rain-pelted ocean, "I can't swim!!!" he let his crossbow go and tried to dogpaddle, but his full plate wasn't helping at all. "Heeelp!!! I'm gonna drown!!!"  
  
"Try standing up, wayward warrior," the deva sang. Judas stopped struggling and pushed his legs straight down and.planted them in sand, and then stood up with the water barely reaching his armpit. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, his head easily above the water, and took a deep breath while pulling off his waterlogged helmet and brushing his long black hair out of his face.  
  
Anomen helplessly watched the deva fly off with the Tyrran, and then popped up again as they disappeared. He ran after Onyx, who had followed Judas inside the library. Once inside, he heard boots going up the stairs in the center of the library, and continued following while brandishing his mace and shield.  
  
He could hear Onyx yelling "Come back here, coward!" a flight of stairs above him. For the cavalier too was going up and up only to chase the fleeing Puritus.  
  
Onyx couldn't believe how cowardly [i]and[/i] stupid this guy he was following him was. His boots echoed crisply off the marble stairs above, and made him quite easy to follow; much easier than say, detouring over a carpeted floor would have been. Furthermore, what was he going to do once he reached the top floor, a dead end? Fly away on a magic carpet?  
  
At last Onyx came to the fifth floor just as he heard Puritus reaching the sixth, whose footsteps then grew quieter as he raced across the carpet of the floor above. Onyx stopped, having heard someone chasing [i]him[/i] a floor below; either Judas or Anomen he assumed, but kept stepping in place so that it would sound like his footsteps were continuing up the last flight of stairs.  
  
Anomen balked in surprise when he rounded the stairs onto the landing of the fifth floor, and suddenly Onyx stepped out from behind a bookcase and smashed his huge shield straight into the Helmite with incredibly ramming force, sending him tripping backwards and crashing head-over-heels back down the stairs again.  
  
"Have a nice [i]trip[/i]!" Onyx shouted cheerily after him and resumed ascending the stairs.  
  
"MMMPH OOF OWW MMMPF BY HELM OWW MMMPF!" Anomen declared eloquently as he rolled down flight after flight, at last managing to quit rolling as he sprawled out on the first floor landing, his legs still sticking up the last few stairs. He looked up at the ceiling of the first floor, hurting all over, and feeling embarrassed at his flailing and screaming manner on the way down. Then it occurred to him - he'd made sounds! The silence had worn off! Though he ached all over, he began chanting a powerful healing spell on himself, and the bruises under his armor healed, and as he laid sprawled at the foot of the stairs with his legs above his head, invigorated blood poured into his mind.  
  
Onyx had now made it to the sixth, top story and looked around for Puritus. He cast a detect evil, but sensed nothing. [i]Well, I should,[/i] he thought to himself. Then he noticed something that made him smile, for at last the rain and mud were working to his advantage. A trail of wet carpet and occasional streaks of mud led away from the stairwell past columns of books. Onyx followed them, strapping his shield to his back and drawing out his fiery longsword Angurvadal with his shield arm.  
  
The tracks reached a corner of the library, and then disappeared. Onyx cursed under his breath. The sniper's boots must have dried off. He rounded the corner and continued on, trying to peer into every possible hiding place and listen carefully for the sounds of running boots. He suspected the cowardly man would try to make it back to the staircase, and he was keeping it in his line of sight. He could've stayed at the stairway, and essentially laid siege to his foe, but the morning was getting on and he still wanted to be back at the Inn when Aerie awoke. And he prayed that if Phlydia really was in the library at this hour, this skirmish would bring no harm to her in any crossfire. His plan was to lure the cowardly Helmite to the stairway by leaving it, but be able to beat him there once his foe made the dash.  
  
Then he heard a breath behind him, even though he'd heard no footsteps coming up, and he thought of something. Perhaps the man's trail hadn't disappeared because his boots had dried off, but because that's where the trail ended. Perhaps he hadn't been the only one carrying an invisibility potion today.  
  
His thoughts were confirmed by a sharp pain between his shoulderblades as a bolt sailed into his back. His heart spasmed as the bolt lodged in it and sent a terrible crying pain throughout his chest. He turned to see Puritus standing exactly where the bootprints had disappeared, strapping a crossbow to his waist and drawing a two-handed sword out of a sheath on his back. Onyx tried to lift his armaments, but his pierced heart gave out a terrible shriek and his arms faltered. As Puritus charged with his sword held menacingly, Onyx managed to raise his right arm, spin the flail around over his head, and lash out. The heads snaked around the blade and hilt of the sword and Onyx yanked sideways. As the electricity head crashed into Puritus's wrists and gave him a nasty shock that caused his fingers to spasm, Onyx's yank pulled from his hands the sword, caught in the coils of the other four heads. The greatsword crashed into the bookshelf next to it. Unable to extricate his weapon from the sword and the bookshelf, Onyx let the flail handle go. Wincing with the pain of raising his other arm nearer his heart, he brought Angurvadal up and charged Puritus. The Helmite shrieked and began to jog back while Onyx pursued him. His back smacked into a bookshelf, and as Onyx bore down on him, he began chant in an archaic tongue.  
  
A terrified look came over his face when nothing happened, except that Onyx brought the flaming tip of Angurvadal to his neck and pressed it against the thin chainmail running from his chin to collar between his breastplate and helm. The sword began to heat the metal and sear his throat, and the cavalier applied just enough pressure to make it obvious that he could plunge it straight through the chain and his neck if he wished. Onyx held himself outwardly firm, but really he was losing control fast. The bolt had struck true, stuck right through his heart, which had ceased beating. His muscles were starting to tingle, and soon he would lose his motor skills. With the bolt in his heart, even his natural regeneration, augmented by that of the sheathed axe's hilt he clasped again with his right hand, would not heal such a mortal would with the bolt still lodged in the way.  
  
Moving only his mouth, Puritus tried to cast his spell again but nothing happened.  
  
"Don't bother," Onyx wheezed emotionlessly, even as blood dribbled from his mouth and his pierced lung made his voice hollow and airy. "You have lost your powers. Speaking of which." He reached around between his shoulder blades with his right hand. He placed his palm upon the back of his platemail where blood was gushing forth, and his hand glowed blue for a moment. Onyx smiled as he felt the bolt within him dissolve and the muscle tissue of his heart reconnect and his lung reseal, and the flow of blood dribbling out of his mouth cease. His heart resumed beating, his muscles ceased tingling as proper bloodflow returned to them, and his breathing lost its punctured wheeze.  
  
"Such a simple spell!" Puritus cried in manic at his own failed attempt, seemingly oblivious to the near-miracle Onyx had just performed on himself. "How could I miscast it twice?"  
  
"You know the answer," Onyx told him, "You are fallen."  
  
Puritus went deathly pale. "That.can't be! I'm carrying out the will of the Order!"  
  
"The Order [i]knights[/i]men and women - and, sadly, only certain lineages, to date. It does not make them [i]paladins[/i]."  
  
"Ah.but I am also carrying out the wills of Helm and Torm!"  
  
"The will of Helm? Perhaps. The will of Torm? No, as we can see."  
  
"It's not fair! I was merely following orders!"  
  
"A paladin does not surrender his own judgment."  
  
"But.." Puritus then made several gurgling noises in his feeble attempts to make a retort. "How was I to know?"  
  
"Firstly, you didn't even [i]try[/i] to know. Did you ask my side before attacking me? No. Did you find out whether I had fallen, as you were probably led to believe or wrongly inferred I must have? No. You know what happens when a paladin attacks a paladin. Either you failed to find out the truth of my deeds, or you inferred incorrectly that they were unjust."  
  
"I was deceived!"  
  
"Aye, but you also let yourself be deceived."  
  
"But.your deeds are unjust!"  
  
"Unconventional? Yes - for a paladin, at least. Unpopular? Apparently, at least within certain circles. Unjust? Please, tell me how."  
  
"You have disobeyed the Order."  
  
"The Order does not decide justice. Human decisions are subjective, justice is not; the rules and laws of men cannot change it."  
  
"You use vampiric weapons."  
  
"And how is that unjust? I use them only upon evildoers. Torm explicitly allows his priests to control undead - yes, I know, Helm does not - holding a vampiric sword is no worse than controlling a vampire. How could it be unjust to drain the life of an evildoer, whom it is just to kill outright?"  
  
"Blackrazor may shatter their soul forever."  
  
"A damned soul is forfeit in the same manner as an evil life; in that it may be ended if necessary to curtail the evil it does. All else equal, I'd not wish the loss of the soul, and with it loss of any chance for redemption in the afterlife, but can that be put ahead of an innocent life or soul?"  
  
"You have tortured for information."  
  
"My response is the same. An evildoer, by their actions, forfeits their otherwise inalienable rights of life and liberty. Though such practices may be grisly, undesirable, and abhorrent; the course of action that is unjust is putting the interests of the evildoer above the rights of the innocent."  
  
"You have associated with an evil drow Sharite."  
  
"You speak of miss deVir? She did no evil while in my company. She was redeemable, and though I know not her recent whereabouts, if she has not yet been burned at the stake by yahoos like yourself, I imagine she is redeemable still. We can detect evil, but are not always charged to destroy it on sight. There are other ways of overcoming it. Paladins fight with words as well as swords. To convert an evil foe to good, like to wield an evil weapon for good, is to do twice the good of destroying it, for its power is then reversed. Not to mention the benefit to the former evildoer herself."  
  
"Your justice is not righteous. Your logic is wrong."  
  
"There is only one justice. There is only logic. I am not infallible, but here I am right. If you cannot see it, it is your loss. I need not justify myself to you theologically, for as we can see, Torm knows I am in the right, nor need I justify myself to you in [i]your[/i] flawed perception, for it is I who have you at swordpoint."  
  
"You mean to kill me then? I knew it! I KNEW IT!" Puritus shrieked without regard for dignity, and Onyx noticed a small, warm puddle had appeared on the inside of one of his boots.  
  
"No," Onyx stated calmly, "I merely restrain you for my own safety. It is you who brought the Law of the Sword to bear this day, and I think we both know the alignment of that ethos."  
  
Puritus continued to babble in panic. "I knew you were a killer! A Bhaalspawn!"  
  
"Not for a tenday now, actually. But that, too, is not a crime, it is not unjust. Despite the Order's racist entry requirements, lineage and creed are separable. Even the essence of Bhaal, while I still had it, was always under my control. Though parentage does seem to play a part in personality, it merely influences, not controls; like a stream with a current that is never too fast to swim against if one tries. Ultimately, it is an individual's responsibility and power to make choices. All is at the discretion of the individual."  
  
"But you mean to kill me, don't you, killer?"  
  
"No, I do not, though it would be justified. I am merely going to confiscate your weapons, as you have behaved as an assassin and I cannot trust you." Onyx lifted his free right hand from the hilt of the Axe of the Unyielding, and grabbed the hilt of the bastard sword at Puritus's belt. "This one's a holy avenger - you won't need it now anyway," the cavalier chuckled.  
  
The Helmite paladin's hands reflexively flinched forward for his weapon, but ceased again when the cavalier pressed the tip of his flaming longsword closer against his neck. Onyx drew the bastard sword out of its sheath and then slid it into his bag of holding after deftly opening it with two fingers. Onyx then unhooked the crossbow from the man's belt and placed it away too.  
  
"As I am no thief - although the customs of spoils would make these mine if I wished," Onyx continued, "I will return your armaments to the Order when next I am there. If they do not expel you, or if the weapons are your own property and they actually honor that," he said with acidity directed not at Puritus, "I am sure they will return them. Otherwise, I'm sure they will put them in the hands of someone more capable, both morally and tactically." Puritus let out a bratty whimper but said nothing coherent. "Keep your shield, armor, and quiver. I have left your friends alive and still armed; they can protect you on your journey back."  
  
Onyx withdrew Angurvadal from the paladin's throat and turned to walk back along the aisle of bookshelves. He untangled the Flail of Ages and Puritus's two-handed sword from where they were lodged in a bookshelf, and put them in his bag. Then, seeming more bored than relieved (in fact it was his recent loss of circulation which, in his sleep deprived state, had left him quite lightheaded), he continued pacing down the aisle to the other wall of the floor, where he gazed out an east-facing window and looked inland, through the dim light of the overcast, rainy morning, the sun just beginning to peak out. He took off his helmet, laid it on a table next to the window, and leaned over the windowsill.  
  
"You know," he told Puritus as he barely heard the man walking up the aisle behind him, "Out this window, over those hills, stretches Faerun, and further on Kara-Tur. I knew a man from there. A conflicted man, but I believe he could have been a good man. He was not given the chance to be redeemed in life, only in death. Fare the well, Yoshimo, and I pray Ilmater has had mercy upon thy soul."  
  
He paused in thought and then continued. "Imoen and I used to play in this library. The old monks forbade that, of course, so we tried to stay quiet. We would play at adventurers, beginning on the ground floor, and working our way up. The 'monsters' of course, came either entirely out of our imagination, or were represented by the monks whom we had to sneak past. Imoen always did love sneaking."  
  
While Onyx continued rambling, he leaned his head leaning out the window and listened to the crashes of the waves. He was hunched forward over the windowsill, and his shoulders blocked his ears from the inside of the floor of the library, and thus the sounds of Puritus drawing a dagger from within his own gauntlet and tiptoeing up behind him were quite muffled. Then a loud running noise came from the marble stairwell, and Puritus winced in terror, but as if by some great mercy the cavalier did not turn around. "Ah, Anomen is here to join us," Onyx said, without turning from the window, "How nice."  
  
The Helmite heard him, and came walking towards their corner of the library, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Puritus standing just behind Onyx with a dagger drawn, holding it high in a reverse grip, clearly meaning to plunge it into the back of the cavalier's bare neck.  
  
"Dear Sir Delryn," Onyx began calmly without looking into the room, "I was just explaining to my fallen paladin friend here the error of your mission. You see."  
  
"ONYX WATCH OUT!!!!!" Anomen screamed as Puritus lunged.  
  
Onyx reacted to the warning almost too quickly. He sunk into a kneel, his arms and chin pulling back fluidly and moving just over and down past the windowsill as Puritus fell high and forward upon him. The neck-stabbing fallen paladin reacted too slowly, and his legs smashed into Onyx's crouched form while he was still bringing his upper body forward and down for the stab, turning his linear momentum into an angular head-over-heels trajectory.  
  
Carried forward by the weight of his armored torso and arms, particularly his right arm outstretched forward, Puritus flipped over Onyx, who bowed his head forward to let the man's waist roll smoothly over his broad shoulders, and his stomach landed on the windowsill and slid along it, carried by his momentum. As Puritus's upper body flew out the window, he dropped his dagger at the sight of the ground six long stories below and began to shriek and flail wildly. He made the grave error of bending his knees and waving his hands forward, causing his center of gravity to move ever-so-slightly over the edge of the windowsill. Like a perfect lever, set on the windowsill against his rigid lower chestplate, he tipped forward and began to slide further out the window. The metal of his armor grated across the stone, then that of his leggings, and finally he went hurtling out of the sixth floor into the empty air.  
  
Onyx mused, "Death comes."  
  
Puritus fell past the fifth floor, flailing like a dancing puppet.  
  
".to us all."  
  
Puritus dropped past the fourth floor, crying like a terrified child.  
  
".But to you."  
  
Puritus sailed past the third floor, babbling like a lunatic.  
  
"..it comes."  
  
Puritus hurtled past the second floor, quivering like a dying bird.  
  
".without."  
  
Puritus plummeted past the first floor, silent and still as stone.  
  
".honor."  
  
He landed headfirst with a sickening and deafening crash of bones and metal upon the patio stones just outside the library doors, his rigid helmet and torso parting at his neck, the weakest point of stress relief. So too with his other joints, and his body was dashed to large chunks as it sank into the stones, metal plates cutting through flesh, and his head and limbs went flying into nearby patches of colorfully and carefully arranged flowers.  
  
Onyx and Anomen now stood by adjacent windows and looked down at the wreckage below. A monk was carefully walking up to inspect it, hiking up the skirt of his robe above the bloodied grass. The rain was still falling, washing the trickling blood along the cracks between the cobblestones into the grass rather than allowing it to pool.  
  
"Why did you warn me?" Onyx asked Anomen, turning to him, while putting his helmet into his bag of holding.  
  
The Helmite bit his lip. "Because he attacked unchivalrously. Because he was fallen. Because you spared my life. Because you deserved a trial. Because your actions did not merit death. Because they may not be unjust at all. I don't know, Onyx, I'm confused, and I don't know. I don't know what Helm wanted me to do. I don't know what the Order wanted me to do. I don't know what was right to do."  
  
"But it sounds like you are beginning to understand that those three are not always the same."  
  
"The Order may not always be right, I suppose. Please don't - "  
  
"Don't worry, you know I of all people won't say anything to them. Speak freely."  
  
"Okay. As for Helm, well,."  
  
"You don't want to blaspheme him, I understand."  
  
Anomen bit his lip again and nodded silently. Onyx placed his left gauntlet upon the priest's right shoulder forgivingly and spoke. "I am sure he looks approvingly upon you today. I believe that if the gods wished for their servants to be unthinking, they would use golems, not men. We have free will. No matter our laws, rules, order, and edicts, there is always a place for judgment calls and individual thinking. Good and truth may be absolute, but that does not necessarily make any particular being infallible. Not even a deity. After all, are they really so different from us? As Elminster says, gods may become mortals, and mortals may become gods."  
  
".Such is life in the Realms." Anomen finished and Onyx smiled.  
  
Just then the pitter-patter of three light pairs of feet and two heavier pairs could be heard ascending the stairs. Onyx grinned broadly. "And I should know. Such has been my life. But it is now a mortal life. But life." he touched his right hand to Aerie's handkerchief, tied around his left arm, ".goes on."  
  
Three young women in mage robes and elven chain appeared from around a bookshelf, followed by a dreadlocked man and a bald one. Aerie and Imoen rushed to Onyx's sides and hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around them; and Minsc laughed and strode over to Anomen and nearly crushed him in a bear hug, and Nalia and Valygar held back and wrapped their arms around each other's waists, and looked at Onyx, who stood tall above his sister and lover in front of the window, the rays of the sunrise coming through the window, as the rain ceased and the clouds parted outside, filling in around him and creating a glowing golden-white halo around the beaming knight. 


	21. The Beginning is the End

21. The Beginning is the End  
  
16 FLAMERULE 1600 ATHKATLA - JANSEN RESIDENCE  
  
"Come in, 007, come in."  
  
Jan Jansen was sitting hunched over a little stool, staring at a desk, on which sat a crystal ball, mounted on a metal pedestal with many buttons that the gnome was pushing rapidly as he spoke. Behind him stood a white-haired knight, arms crossed impatiently.  
  
"Why isn't he responding, Q?" the elderly armored man grumbled. "He's right there, isn't he?"  
  
"Well yeah, I've got my wizard eye right on him. But, eh, well, you know Keldie," Jan chuckled, waving his stubby arms around, "He's eh.busy."  
  
"By the tonsils of Torm!" Keldorn exclaimed. "He should have been back days ago! Let me see that."  
  
Keldorn stooped down over the desk and looked at the crystal ball; and couldn't help noticing that the pedestal had "J.S.M.: Jansen Scrying Machines" engraved along the side. The inquisitor peered into the ball itself, and his goateed jaw nearly hit the desk.  
  
The image was of some sort of luxurious inn room, and focused on a bed, out of which a gaggle of limbs were sticking haphazardly in every direction; some thicker, tanned ones, and some thinner, paler ones with purple nails.  
  
Keldorn hastily looked away from the crystal ball as his scarred cheeks reddened, but Jan laughed, "Dontcha worry, big guy. Ain't checkin' in on 007 your duty or somethin'?"  
  
The aged inquisitor sighed uneasily. "Q, why do I get the feeling that your little 'J.S.M.' device has seen this sort of thing before?"  
  
The gnome chuckled, "Well, you see, it all started back when my great- uncles Billygoats Jansen and Hugo Hefsen got together. 'Bill' had this scrying invention called Wizard Windows for the World Wide Weave, and 'Hugh' had this illustrated circular called Playgnome, and so they formed a joint entrepreneurial venture to."  
  
"Eh, I think I get the gist," Keldorn hooked a long index finger in his armor collar nervously.  
  
"Hey look, Keldo!" Jan pointed a hairy finger at the ball.  
  
A smugly grinning female face with long purple hair popped up from underneath the white sheets. The woman exhaled contentedly, giggled, and then looked around. She spotted and grabbed a martini glass, but before she'd gotten it to her purple lips, her eyes flicked around, and then stopped, looking straight back out of the crystal ball.  
  
"Jarek..what is that?" she seemed to point right out of the crystal ball at Keldorn, who blushed further, and Jan, who bit his fingernails anxiously.  
  
"Huh?" Jarek poked his head up from beneath the sheets. "Why, Bucki dear, that's just a wizard eye...wizard eye!" Jarek followed her gaze right out of the ball. "Bloody hell! Can't you chaps see I'm still busy wrapping up the mission?"  
  
Jan chuckled and elbowed Keldorn lightly in the ribs, "Looks more like he's unwrapped it to me!"  
  
The inquisitor slapped his own forehead and groaned. "You're even worse that 007, Q."  
  
In the image, Jarek continued, "Don't worry Bucki, I can fix this.let me just get my rod here."  
  
"By all means, Mr. Bond! By all means," Bucki arched an eyebrow seductively and grinned.  
  
Jarek reached under the sheets and pulled out some sort of wand, then pointed it straight at Jan, who screeched, "Aiee! It's a rod of dispelling!"  
  
The staff flashed in Jarek's hand, and then the crystal ball went dark.  
  
A second later the ball flashed the text message, 'WARNING: DISPEL MAGIC DETECTED, SPELL_IMMUNITY_ABJURATION NOT FOUND. THIS CANTRIP HAS BEEN DISPELLED AND MUST BE RECAST."  
  
"Aieee!! It crashed again!" Jan yelped. "Curse you, Billygoats, may your turnips ever rot!" He started frantically mashing buttons on the pedestal, to no avail.  
  
Keldorn merely chuckled, "Over and out, 007. See you next mission."  
  
**********  
  
17 FLAMERULE 1800 ATHKATLA - THE RADIANT HEART  
  
"You WHAT!?!?!?!?!" echoed throughout the main floor of the Radiant Heart.  
  
"You heard what Sir Delryn said, Puritus," Keldorn Firecam spoke up, and Anomen breathed a sigh of relief. "It would seem that Torm's will was made perfectly clear in this matter, if your son and his mates are fallen."  
  
"My son isn't fallen, he's DEAD!" screamed Sir Puritus Pontius Pilatus IV, High Watcher and Priest of Helm and Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart, his fat face turning beet red and veins becoming visible on his balding scalp.  
  
"By his own doing, it would seem, not even by Onyx's blade," the aged inquisitor replied calmly. "We mourn his loss, but the blame lies squarely on his own head. "  
  
Anomen spoke up, "I regret it too, as did Onyx. Judas and Adonis, whom he spared, do still live."  
  
A new wave of anger washed over Puritus's face. "Then why haven't Sir Iscarias and Sir Narcissus reported back too, Delryn?" he demanded.  
  
The younger Helmite politely answered, "We spoke with them after the skirmish. Onyx was quite kind and amicable, and he forgave and befriended them. They took his advice to go on a long journey and quest of atonement; east towards Rasheman I think. Onyx mentioned something about a 'reverse- dejemma' I didn't quite get. It will be a long time before we see them again, I think, but if and when they return I'm sure it will be in their gods' favor."  
  
Keldorn nodded approvingly. "And maybe sporting purple tattoos on their foreheads," he chuckled, scratching his neatly trimmed snowy goatee.  
  
Puritus grew livid and turned towards the inquisitor. "How can you laugh at a time like this? Just because you have the rank and station of a knight half your age doesn't give you leave to go flaunting my authority! Watch it, or I'll demote you to a rank befitting a knight a third your age!"  
  
Keldorn bit his lip and looked down, but Anomen spoke up. "Speaking of rules and ranks, Sir Pilatus, Onyx asked me to read you a message." The priest took an envelope out of a belt-pouch, opened it, and pulled out and unfolded a letter. "ahem..."  
  
"Sir Puritus Pontius Pilatus:  
  
Greetings, it is Sir Onyx (or perhaps just 'Onyx' now?). If you're hearing this, then thank Anomen for me for delivering it, and I assume he's already told you how your little 'arrest' (or perhaps 'ambush and assassination attempt' would be more apt?) turned out.  
  
First, you have my condolences on the loss of your son. He did quite literally earn his own death, but he didn't deserve it, and you do not deserve the loss of your only child. He fell six stories after missing his mark (my spine) in a backstabbing lunge, and I'd have resurrected him myself, but as the saying goes, all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put him back together again.  
  
Second, Judas Iscarias and Adonis Narcissus, on the other hand, are fallen but alive and well, and currently embarking on a journey, spiritually towards enlightenment and geographically towards Rasheman. My close friend and ally Minsc, a ranger and Rashemani native, has prepared them well for their dejemma with maps and lore. I'm sure they will emerge reborn as truer paladins than ever they were, though whether we see them again, and whether they end up as heroes of Amn or of Rasheman, only time will tell.  
  
Third, despite the 'failure' of his mission, Anomen Delryn should be if anything commended, for strength and skill both martial and moral. I realize that you won't value my opinion, and that it's not from a senior Order member (or perhaps you've bothered with the committees and paperwork to declare me not one at all), but the fact remains true.  
  
Fourth, speaking of ranks and membership and such, while we couldn't reassemble your son, I did find some interesting documents upon his person (well, upon his left forearm anyway; up the same sleeve as his dagger) that seemed to pertain to your personal finances, and the Order's. Funny thing is, I had a lot of trouble figuring out which were which, as there was alot of crossover. Now, I'm no accountant, but I'm pretty sure that Order funds don't cover 500 GP armor polishing and therapeutic chiropractory at the Copper Coronet. Nor would I expect such pricing at the Coronet, although I seem to recall hearing that said establishment offers certain other services for about those fees. There's also the 'equipment' purchased from vendors I had thought only sold jewelry (I suspect these expenses are related to the last ones?), and a few other curious items in the same vein in these. I figured the Order brass would have more use for these than myself, so I sent them back south with Anomen, who should have delivered the papers to Keldorn Firecam before reading you this (and just in case they don't survive the journey, my fiancé has made magical copies that I'll bring next time I'm in town).  
  
Fifth, and speaking of me being in town, I will be soon, and am prepared to face a hearing if the brass requests it. But I'm not coming now, and when I do am prepared to sue that your previous order was illegal and unjust; as (1) the charges against me merit no more than expulsion by precedent, for which an arrest need not (and cannot) be made, (2) multiple senior officials must approve such an order; and Keldorn's, being under your duress as Anomen will testify, is void, (3) Above point voids your authority as well.  
  
Sixth, I have other duties, to my true love, that are long overdue. With all due respect, Sir Puritus IV, I know enough about your field experience, or lack thereof, to know that you have no idea what I've been through, or put her through, and right now betraying my promises and duty to her would be far more of a dishonor than disobeying you, which in light of above is no dishonor at all.  
  
Seventh, Sir Puritus IV, fuck you and the warhorse you never rode in on.  
  
That about sums it up. Have a nice day. (  
  
-Onyx"  
  
A stony silence fell over the room after Anomen finished reading.  
  
"Sir Delryn did indeed deliver said papers," Keldorn told Puritus, nodding towards the young knight, "And I have already handed them over to the Order brass."  
  
Puritus was the color of blood. "You..lies! Lies and outrage!" he shrieked in terror. "The cavalier outlaw is doing this to distract from his own wrongdoings and undermine the credibility of those seeking to bring him to justice."  
  
"A convenient confluence of motives on the lad's part, perhaps," the old knight admitted, "But given such documents, I suspect he'd be interesting in bringing you to justice regardless."  
  
"They are forgeries and lies!" Puritus stood and screamed, his spittle raining upon the other two's faces and getting caught in their black and white goatees, "He had his foul witch conjure them from thin air! Why, he practically admitted it in the letter!"  
  
The old inquisitor sighed, wiping the spit off his face. "I've seen and investigated enough deceitful magery in my time to know that copying a document is a pale shadow of the skill required to outright conjure an original one, especially bearing the signature and handwriting of someone - you - which he wouldn't know."  
  
"He.altered them, obviously!" the elder Helmite cried, his eyes flashing about desperately. "His little sorceress doctored them!"  
  
"My eyes saw no such traces, magical or practical," Keldorn replied calmly, "As we speak, the other senior inquisitors are confirming my forensics."  
  
"And I'm sure they will find that the invoices are legitimate nonetheless!" Puritus babbled eagerly.  
  
"Odd that you would claim both that they false, and that they are legitimate," Keldorn scratched his bearded chin with mock thoughtfulness. "For if they are false, then you have never seen them and could not possibly know such a thing."  
  
Puritus began to sputter and stammer, but before he got out a coherent word, heavy footsteps sounded outside the closed door of the office, and then heavy knocks sounded upon it. Anomen took the liberty of opening the door, to find two burly and heavily armored paladins in the hallway.  
  
"Sir Puritus Pontius Pilatus IV," one stated gruffly, staring across the office at the fat priest, "come with us, please."  
  
"Well now, Anomen," Keldorn chuckled to the younger Helmite as the elder one was led away, "I'll bet you never expected your first mission as a full Order knight would turn out quite like that."  
  
"Not in my wildest dreams, sir," the priest sighed with the relief of someone who has just finished a long race, as he and the inquisitor left the office.  
  
"In your career," Keldorn began as they strode across the main hall of the Order, "I think you will find what I have: that things often are not what they first seem; you'll find friends where you expect enemies and enemies where you expect friends, and dangers are to be found on both sides of the line, and the ability to see clearly is oft more important than that to strike true."  
  
"I understand its importance, but still it proves difficult at times," Anomen sighed as he followed Keldorn into his office.  
  
"I thought I had it pretty much all figured out," Keldorn admitted as he sat down behind his desk and gestured for the Helmite to take a seat, "But things are weighing upon my mind now, and this issue is far from resolved. Even if the arrest were to be found wrongful, Onyx couldn't have known that when he resisted; and I think technically remains insubordinate."  
  
Anomen glanced at the ceiling and scratched his goatee before answering, "Well, his first point on that issue he could have deduced on the fly, and he did flatly say before the skirmish that he suspected the other two, based on the first."  
  
"Suspicion does not merit disobedience," Keldorn replied calmly, "And reasoning from just precedent is not his place; the exact guidelines on arrests will have to be looked at. Whichever side of the fine line the coin falls on though, I can't say I like his attitude. And that letter? He has demonstrated to me once again that he is brash and arrogant, and this time I can't put the blame on his sire's taint. I image some form of censure will be in order, but hopefully he will learn something from it, and I mean to tell him a few things myself. There are a few things the lad is overlooking, I think."  
  
"Firstly, there is great value in obeying conventions, even if they may seem slightly hamhanded for the situation. It is a way of acknowledging limitations of one's own judgment and trusting in that of others, which is the entire reason we're here. If he - or you - ran solely on his mere 21 years of experience and heeded not the Order, whose live members have hundreds of combined years of experience, and whose rules are based on thousands, his decision making will be the less for it."  
  
"Secondly, it makes him unpredictable, and how can the Order possible wage battles effectively if its operatives behave like that? It's as if each of your arms decided for itself what best to do; you'd never get anything done!"  
  
"Third, there is the epidemic and escalation issue. Cavalier behavior on his part might encourage it in other recruits; and worse still, his underhanded field tactics might, if more public, encourage our enemies to fight dirtier themselves. And is anyone better off then? It's true, Anomen, that we seem to fight with one hand tied behind our back sometimes, but that is part of what we're fighting for; lest we descend to the level of what we claim to oppose."  
  
"But he did win the fight, and I'd hate to think of what might have happened if the Chaos Circus and the Jeweler's slaving cartel had remained intact. Nay, on second thought, I know - the slaving would have continued, as it did while we and the Harpers tried for years to nail the Jeweler. Soon the expansion-hungry Zhentarim will grow to fill the slave-market void, and the battle will rage on, but the circus's captives are free and some untold number will have been spared the horrors of enslavement thanks to your actions, Anomen, and that of Onyx and the rest. There's a certain irony - his attitude and decision-making seem selfish, in a way, and yet his actions have been quite altruistic - doing what he did to find and fight the Jeweler nearly cost him his life at the Order's very hands, not to mention the Jeweler's, and may yet cost him, all for the freedom of people he's never met. But as good as his intentions may have been, we all know what the road to the hells is paved with, as there will yet be a reckoning - but hopefully a peaceful one this time, which he will learn from."  
  
"But I've talked your ear off enough for one afternoon, my lad. Let's call it a day. And what a day it was! Good work, Anomen, and thanks for listening to an old proselytizer." With that he get up from the desk and began to walk with Anomen out of his office.  
  
"Thank [i]you[/i], sir," Anomen smiled as they strode out the great front doors of the Order, "Words any mentor or father would be wise to give."  
  
"Yes," Keldorn agreed, with a distant look in your eye, as they stood upon the bridges of the temple district. "The sort of words I suspect your father never gave you," he young priest's sad gaze answered his question, "And the sort of words I have neglected to give my own wife and son. If you'll excuse me, Sir Delryn, the day wanes, and tonight Onyx shan't be the only one spending time with loved ones."  
  
Anomen smiled as Keldorn turned towards his home, and looked out, wondering where he should go, to what family. To the unkempt house of his drunkard father? No. To the lonely grave of his slain sister? No. He began to trudge along, through the darkness and the rain. He soon came by the Temple of Helm, and thinking to go in and pray, turned towards the doors. Before he could take a step off the main path, the bright glint of the Temple of Lathander, even in the darkness and out of the corner of his eye, caught his attention and he turned idly. His attention was then turned to the voices of four figures up ahead. Mere silhouettes they were in the darkness, but each tall and feminine.  
  
"Like, omigod, that was totally the thing to do! I feel like, soooo refreshed!" laughed one of the shadows.  
  
"Right on, Buffy, I haven't felt so good in ages. I'm glad they could get rid of my purple hair dye!" a second laughed sheepishly.  
  
"Oh, of course, little sister!" sang a third woman, "As well as the Temple of Lathander can cleanse the soul, the Morninglord's Spa can the body!" The others giggled, but Anomen thought he recognized this voice, warm and musical. Dawn-whats-her-name from the chapel in Nashkel, Anomen realized, that friend of Father Optus's. "Even you must feel at ease now, my quiet elf-friend."  
  
"I suppose so, Dawn," sighed the fourth voice, and Anomen's heart nearly leapt into his throat as the voice of Arra Flyte filled his ears. "Thanks gals. I haven't had this much fun in a long time."  
  
"Anytime," laughed the voice of Dawn. "Now, girls, back to my place for drinks and dinner?"  
  
"Thanks again," sighed the elven voice, "But I.really should be getting back to the Harpers."  
  
"Let us accompany you to the docks then, Arra," Dawn insisted, "'Tis a dangerous place, even for one as streetwise as you."  
  
"Aw, thanks, but I'll be fine," Arra sighed. One of the four figures separated from the rest, coming towards Anomen even as the other three turned away.  
  
The Helmite felt within himself mixed urges to run toward her and flee away, and before he knew it the figure was near him.  
  
"Lady Arra! Lady Arra!" he called out, unable to think of anything better to say.  
  
"Who wants to kn- Anomen?" the elf asked in disbelief, peaking out from under her green hood.  
  
"Yes! It is I!" he answered. "It's.good to see you again."  
  
"And y-.no! You deserter! What are you doing here? Guarding the temples from the raindrops?" she asked acidly.  
  
"I was just coming from the Order after - well, it's a long story, as I'm sure yours is - but - well, shouldn't we get out of the rain first? I haven't supped yet; you?" Anomen rambled, unable to compose himself better.  
  
"No so fast, Helmite," the elven Harper hissed, drawing back into her hood, "You." she leaned toward him, and his heart leapt briefly, "..JERK!!!!" his heart fell again as she slapped him hard across the face, with the might of the great warrior that she was, and the knight barely kept his feet. "You just left me! And the mission! And you called me a.a witch! No one calls me a witch!"  
  
"Arra, I." already shaken from his slap, Anomen dropped to one knee and wrung his hands up at her. "I want to apologize. I told you in Beregost I'd have nothing more to do with you until you saw the light, but..it is I who needed the enlightenment. I'm truly sorry, and I hope but do not expect that you can forgive me. I crossed paths again with some of the others in Candlekeep and - ah, there is so much to tell."  
  
Arra sighed and peeked out from under her hood again. "Well," she began with a softer voice, "I suppose, as a tactical matter at least, we should exchange accounts; after all this entire mission was a joint operation between the Harpers and the Order." [i]And I have already seen one agent and knight, nearly brought together by this mission, push themselves apart again..well now, miss Arra Flyte 006, is that what you want to do with yourself now here? Or is there good reason the druid and her cavalier weren't meant to be together? Is that where the story ends? No, this is my story now, and that's the beginning.[/i]  
  
"And, knight," she spoke aloud again, "You could truly apologize by proving to me that your company can be bearable again," she laughed teasingly and reached out a hand.  
  
The kneeling knight lightly took and kissed it as he rose to his feet. "Well, pleasant even," she giggled in spite of herself, taking the man's arm as he offered it.  
  
"Come then, my lady," Anomen smiled broadly, making a moderately successful attempt to suppress the true extent of his grin, "Let us to elsewhere; you are cold and wet."  
  
[i]Wet, yes; cold, no,[/i] she thought as she looked up into the rain, and leaned snugly against him as they walked away arm in arm.  
  
**********  
  
17 FLAMERULE 1900 CANDLEKEEP  
  
"Might I join you in watching a sunset so beautiful, milady?"  
  
Nalia de'Arnise spun around in a moment of shock, the voice right behind her even though she'd heard no one approach. Her back now to the westward windows of Candlekeep library's sixth floor, her look of shock melted to one of glee as she saw it was Valygar Corthala who had approached so silently behind her.  
  
"Forgive me, Nalia," he cracked a smile, "I did not mean to surprise you. Walking quietly becomes a habit, as I suppose you know."  
  
"Yes, but a pleasant surprise is a welcome one," she giggled, looking up into his dark eyes. "Please do join me."  
  
The stalker nodded, and walked up beside her, and she turned again to join him in looking out to sea, into which the sun now dipped. "It is good to have the mission over and done," he said, "And to once again see you, and Imoen and Aerie," he added hastily and averted his eyes.  
  
"Likewise," the mage smiled, "To see you; and Onyx and Minsc. What of Jaheira?"  
  
"She...went her on way," Valygar sighed, "To where, we do not know."  
  
"That's...well enough, but I'm glad the rest of you are back," Nalia smiled up at him, "I was worried. I should have gone with you. We all should have."  
  
"All's well that ends well, but your company would have been desirable," he nodded while looking out to sea. "With your power and all."  
  
"Oh, so Valygar Corthala is warming up to having mages about, is he?" Nalia teased him.  
  
The stalker smiled sheepishly, and were his skin any lighter, his blush would have been apparent. "I...think that you - and your friends - have softened my regard for magic," he flashed a pearly grin down at her, and as he took a deep breath a look that showed both calm and vigor crossed his face. "Well, not softened....heh, warmed?" Nalia bit her tongue to suppress a smile as she realized he must have just inhaled the perfume she and Aerie had concocted - which just happened to be laced with an enchantment or two.  
  
"I regret the separation for your sake too, Nalia," Valygar continued at length, "In light of the attempt on your life. I'm so glad you're okay, and I apologize that the rest of us weren't there."  
  
"If I'd come with you, it would have been averted," Nalia frowned pensively. "Well, all's well that end's well, right?"  
  
"The assassins would have been awaiting your return, I'm sure," Valygar looked crossly out to sea, his thumb and forefinger pressed as if around a drawn arrow. "And there may yet be more."  
  
"I have worried about this," Nalia stared downwards unhappily, then up to the stalker with a look of hope. "It's nice the way Aerie has her own bodyguard and all."  
  
Valygar looked down at her with a serious but compassionate gaze, and nodded with understanding. "I imagine we both suspect the source of this lies in Athkatla, and the peril will be greater when we return. If you would have it, I shall be your sworn protector, and the Sphere your stronghold as well as mine."  
  
Nalia's face lit up before being creased again with concern. "Thank you so much, Val! But...you are still yourself a hunted man in the City of Coin, and I will understand if you do not wish to linger there. But if you will be my bodyguard, I too shall be yours, and help you clear your name, as a priority before my estate, or politics."  
  
"The Cowled Wizards and the Council of Six both are in need of much reform," Valygar looked down at her caringly, "And I suspect before the end of things, we shall find our pursuits entwined."  
  
He lay a hand upon the windowsill, millimeters from hers, and she agreed, "Entwined...yes, we shall."  
  
**********  
  
The other end of the sixth floor of the library was dead quiet, except for some furtive sighing and kissing sounds coming from a dark corner.  
  
"Hee hee!" giggled a soft soprano voice. "Looks like our perfume is doing the trick!"  
  
"Oh yeah!" chuckled a baritone counterpart in between miscellaneous noises. "Not that it's necess- wait, 'our'? Uh, I'm not wearing any!"  
  
"Well, you practically are now! But I meant Nalia and I invented it."  
  
"Ahhhh...so that's why it's so nice. I would almost swear it were magical!"  
  
"Oh, it is, my love, we engineered it to work despite your charm-immunity; as well as Val's."  
  
".That's just his armor."  
  
".Which I'd suspect, unfortunately, he for one is still wearing. Now you, my dear, on the other hand....mmmm, you should have been a kensai!"  
  
"Heh! I don't suppose I could convince you to start wearing tighter robes?"  
  
"I would, but what robes? You already took care of those!"  
  
"Ah, yes..well now I'll TAKE CARE OF YOU!! HA HA."  
  
"Ooooooo! I'm.I'm so happy, my love! I feel like I'm going to burst."  
  
"Me too..heh heh.."  
  
"Oh!...My true love, I don't want to ever worry about you again, or you about me, promise me we'll always be together."  
  
"Of course, my love. 'Til death do.."  
  
"No! Don't say that. I know what you're thinking, my love, but Im and Nal and I aren't going to let that happen. Just promise me. Please."  
  
"I love you, Aerie. Forever."  
  
**********  
  
Meanwhile, through the ceiling and on the roof above, Minsc sat on the stones of the top spire, with Imoen cradled cozily in his arms and lap, and two large hamsters and a half-dozen baby ones in her lap.  
  
"Ya know, Minscy, I used to love to come up here," Imoen looked longingly out the sea, into which the sun had set out of a clear sky. "I guess cuz no one else did - or could! This was my secret place to sneak up to."  
  
"Who would have guessed that mighty Minsc would be able to get up here!.Unless of course, evil were up here, and Minsc needed very badly to kick its butt back down six stories."  
  
"Well, Minscy, I kinda helped you with a little telekinesis."  
  
"Ooh! Imoen is very clever, isn't she Boo?"  
  
"Heya, thanks. Ya know, I'm really glad I have ya to talk to. Somehow, it's so nice that Onyx and I are finally back, but.it's just not the same."  
  
"Have no fear, Imoen! Onyx will spend more time with his sister very soon, Minsc will see to that! He will kick your brother over to you with his great boot, and Boo will hop into his armor and nibble until he sits down with Immy and hugs her many times and.."  
  
"Hee hee! Thanks, Minsc, but it's okay. It's more just that.well, I'm just not the same girl I once was.the one you yourself once knew.I got back my life, and my soul, but my innocence is gone forever."  
  
"Poor Imoen, yes, Minsc has seen this and it makes him very sad that there are such evil men that they would hurt such a sweet girl.but if Minsc had never lost his innocence, we would never have become such great stompers and biters of evil, would be Boo?" A valiant squeak answered from the ranger's pocket.  
  
"That's the weird thing, and that's the nature of [i]why[/i] you can never get it back I think," Imoen sighed, and snuggled into Minsc's shoulder, "Because even if I could, would I want to?"  
  
*********  
  
Back down on the fifth floor of the library, in a cozy office stuffed with books, sat at a desk a young woman, adorned in the priestly vestments of Oghma, looking beautiful but sad. She had cleared her usually-cluttered desk of all save a few old pieces of paper; each a letter, addressed to her, and written in large, boyish, and nearly illegible handwriting, each beginning with some variation of "dear Phlydia," "dearest Phyldia," "beloved Phyldia," and ending with some variation of "Love, Onyx," "Yours, Onyx," "Always, Onyx."  
  
[i]Always indeed,[/i] she thought, and her mind wandered.  
  
[i]"Here Phlyd! 'The History of Halruaa,' wasn't this one of yours?"  
  
"Oh thank you! I'll try not to lose it yet again, hee hee! *peck*."  
  
"No trouble at all, lovely Phyldia."  
  
"Quit it! You're making me blush. Won't you stay awhile? I was just reading 'The Dead Three' - it's about how Bane, Myrkul, and Bhaal came to power, and how they eventually died and - well, I was just reading it here behind the haystacks and you could join me, I loving reading to you and..."  
  
"Aw, c'mon Phlyd, what relevance could old history and dead gods possibly have to us here and now!"  
  
"Well, we don't have to read, you know..."  
  
"I'd - *smooch* - love to join you, but Gorion has summoned me. Sorry."  
  
"What? But you already did all your chores! And even my very own knight in shining armor has to take a break from training at least one day a week!"  
  
"It's...not that. I didn't just come by just to return your book. Imoen seemed to know what old Gorion was up to and...well, I think he wants me to leave."  
  
"Leave! It's your day off! Are the summer kobold-sightings beginning already?"  
  
"No, no, I think he wants me to leave Candlekeep. And I don't know for how long."  
  
"WHAT!?"  
  
"I don't understand it myself...there were two men in town trying to kill me, Phyldia; they are slain, but now Gorion says I'm not safe here, I have to go."  
  
"Oh no, no, no! But...why would anyone...that makes no sense, you're so good...why...why..."  
  
"I wish I knew. Maybe Gorion and I will figure it out. But I have to go now."  
  
"NO! You can't just...abandon me...what if you get killed! How can you not be safe in Candlekeep of all places!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Phyldia...but I'm not safe here, and I'd put you in jeopardy too if I stayed, so I must leave you for now.I won't abandon you...I love you, and I'm going to return as soon as I can."  
  
"Promise me this isn't the end!"  
  
"I know this looks like how a story might end, but it really isn't. This is how one begins."[/i] 


	22. Epilogue: Happily Never After

Epilogue: Happily N/ever After  
  
18 FLAMERULE 0000 ATHKATLA - THE SLUMS  
  
As rain and cloud left the Sword Coast, they moved down to Amn, blanketing Athkatla in wet, overcast night. It was hot and muggy, and unusually dark, and thus two figures trudged nearly invisible through the slums district of the city in a late hour, although their gruff curses pierced the still, oppressive air.  
  
"Ar," cried one, a grimacing dwarf with a matted beard and horned helm, "It be too hot for such work t'night, aye? I dinna know why the dark-elfy be wantin' these bodies tonight, they be spoil'n too fast in such weather!" He hoisted the heavy, lumpy burlap sack he carried onto his other shoulder.  
  
"Oh, be quiet," groaned the other, an unusually tall and muscular man; his ethereal glowing eyes illuminating much of his face, such as his bald scalp and tattooed forehead, "The sooner we get these last bodies to her, the sooner we may retire to meat and drink." The huge man carried a burlap sack similar to the dwarf's, although whatever was in it seemed about six feet long rather than three.  
  
"Ar, meat and drink, now that be more like it!" chuckled the surly dwarf, licking his lips and then patting the axe at his belt with his free hand. "And after that's we can be findin' ourselves some pretty lasses for a bit o' fun, aye?"  
  
"Perhaps, Korg," replied the goateed man half-heartedly.  
  
"Ar, ye be soundin' not so enthusiastic for girlies of late, mister Sarry, is it all be still workin' downstairs? Har har!"  
  
"Watch your tongue, dwarf, or you shall fill a third burlap sack," the man scowled down at his accomplice menacingly.  
  
The dwarf growled back, traces of froth appearing at the corners of his mouth. "Har har, I be figurin' it out!" he laughed at length, "The dark- elfy be havin' another task for ye, so to speak! Har har!"  
  
"Yes, perhaps," the man answered again, with a smirk, while rubbing the tentacle-rod-welt on his neck with his free hand. "Or perhaps I'll have a task for her," he added with bellowed laughter and clenched the hand into a hard fist.  
  
"Ar, we be back in the bones-yard now, this place be givin' me the creeps! Let us be findin' yer little darkie, and then I be back off to the Coronet with my money, whether ye come or no!" the dwarf looked around at the gravestones and made some superstitious gesture with his hand.  
  
The man squinted ahead into the gloom. The graveyard district was even danker than the slums this night, and a thick fog hung about it.  
  
"Finally!" a shrill, witchlike voice echoed from ahead. Though neither Sarevok Anchev nor Korgan Bloodaxe could see its owner, they knew it to be Viconia deVir. "Hurry along, you oafs!" she continued, "This is no night for leaving the dead inanimate and rotting!"  
  
The man and the dwarf plodded forward, and came to a large rectangular tomb. They strode within the open doors, and before them was then Viconia, decked out in ostentatious but revealing Sharran regalia.  
  
"Well don't just stand their, you steel-swinging simpletons, lay them out!" she cried.  
  
Korgan laid his burden on one of the two raised marble slabs in the room, and pulled the sack off, revealing the body of a messy-black-haired halfling man with earrings and greasy leather. Sarevok did the same, revealing a messy-blonde-haired human with facial tattoos and acid-green robes.  
  
"[i]Nei iblith![/i]" Viconia cried as she peered over the bodies, brushing the hair out of the faces and studying them.  
  
"We found 'em by the docks," Korgan began defensively, "In a dumper behind tha Harpy-Hold! They be as good condition is ye can be 'spectin!"  
  
"You recognize them?" Sarevok asked the drow more perceptively, arching an eyebrow.  
  
"Yes," Viconia answered, looking up at the living man, her look of disbelief melting into a wicked grin, "The halfling one is the rogue known as Montaron, the other the necromancer Xzar."  
  
"Ah yes," Sarevok grinned, "I have heard of them."  
  
"Now you shall meet them," the drow witch grinned, and rubbed her nimble hands together, causing Korgan to wince as the long, sharp nails scraped one another.  
  
"But they died nigh a month ago, yes?" Sarevok looked down at them quizzically. "They should be naught but bones."  
  
Viconia grinned knowingly. "It would seem that they were imbued with a certain...preservation ward," she laughed, "I would wager this foul, death- cheating necromancer put it upon them himself for just such an opportunity as this."  
  
"If Korgan Bloodaxe coulds be disgusteded out," the dwarf frowned, "That would be doin' it!"  
  
Sarevok nodded and chuckled while Viconia began uttering foul words in a foul tongue. A blue haze appeared around her hands, and then upon the body of Xzar, which began to stir. Montaron's then began to glow and to move as well.  
  
"KILL THE HARPERS!" Xzar screamed as his eyes popped open, gripping the sides of his head.  
  
"AYE, KILL THE HARPERS!!" Montaron yelled, wriggling around on his oversized slab.  
  
The necromancer sat up and bit his knuckles, babbling into his fist. "I have in mine sleep seen demons a-dancing and dragons in drag! 'Tis all true, I swear, and now I wake to a hag!"  
  
"Nay, X, it be tha beautiful buxom blue elf we saw abouts before!" the halfling laughed and licked his lips.  
  
"Yep, that's ol' Monty and Xzar," Viconia laughed.  
  
************  
  
18 FLAMERULE 2200 ATHKATLA - THE SHADOW THIEVES' GUILD  
  
The only place shadier than the streets of Athkatla's docks district are what lies beneath, and there, in the bowels of the Shadow Thief complex, in one of its more luxurious chambers, a red-robed and black-bearded man stood, looking at a painting on the wall. In drab colors, it was of a distinctively Thayvian man with a bald head and a black goatee. At the bottom, on the frame, an inscription read "Uncle Vlad."  
  
"Don't worry, comrade Vlad," the red-robed man sighed and held a glass of vodka up, "The Motherland will be proud yet."  
  
The man downed his drink and then left the room in a huff, and walked into another, even more opulent, chamber. Two men paced and argued. One had roguish but handsome features, clad in a leather suit rife with hidden pockets and daggers. The other wore chainmail and had a large, flat nose.  
  
"Your men are incompetent!" The red-robed man hissed at the man in leather.  
  
"Incompetent? Nae. Untrustworthy, yae," he responded.  
  
"Yeah, it was pretty f-in far out!" the one in chainmail laughed.  
  
"Silence, you - what was your name?" the red-robed one demanded.  
  
"I told you," hissed the leathered one, "He's Quintus Tarantinus, official bard and loremaster of the Shadow Thieves."  
  
"I always change the names in my work, of course," Quintus Tarantinus grinned.  
  
"See that he does, Aran Linvail," the red-robed man glared at the leather-clad one.  
  
"Don't worry, Edwin Odesseiron," Aran glared back.  
  
"Hey yo man, are we professionals or what?" Quintus waved his hands, "I know the mission was bust, what with Orange, Pink, and Brown going freelance and turning like that, but it'll make an f-in story. I'm thinking of calling it 'Keep Fiction' or 'Reservoir Thieves.' Whaddya f-in think, huh?"  
  
"SHUT UP!" Aran and Edwin screamed at him in unison.  
  
"Right," Quintus shrugged and began walking out of the chambers, giving a very communicative hand signal as he did.  
  
Aran stared down Edwin defensively. "Yeah yeah, so hitting the de'Arnise girl didn't go as planned. So what are you trying to say, anyway?"  
  
"Simple," the Thayvian grinned, "If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself."  
  
***********  
  
19 FLAMERULE 1800 THE WINDSPEAR HILLS  
  
The storms plaguing the western coast of Amn did not end there, but moved inland over the country, bringing much-necessary rain to farm crops in many places, but nearly flooding others.  
  
Rain beat down upon the Windspear Hills, filling streams and rivers and creating new ones, eroding the hillsides and bringing tons of mud downhill, much of it reaching the low-lying marshlands to the south, where the rain also came down in tropical downpours.  
  
Through these choked, flooded swamps walked - nay, waded - a lonely wandering woman, wearing both dragonscale mail and ordinary, rugged clothing, scimitars on her back, stores in her magical bag, but no helm upon her head, only matted, muddied blonde hair. Its usually kempt braids had come tangled and undone, and the hair now spilled over a face that would have been beautiful save for the sadness and anger and mud that marred it now. She walked quickly but heavily, looking down at her own swamp-immersed feet or around at the flooded, festering landscape about her, ever looking both sorrowful and scornful, grime on her face and her clothing.  
  
She came at last to a hillock that had been made almost an island by the risen waters of the swamp. Upon it was a stonehenge circle, and it backed against a rocky face, into which led a cave. As she approached the stonehenge, she could see that in its center stood a man. He had long, grey hair, and his face had the care and wisdom of great age, though he did not look actually very old, but like a man worn early by much brooding. His hair had also white feathers in it, and upon his body was plant-woven clothing, including a green cape that seemed a solid mat of leaves. In one hand he held a great staff that looked almost as if it were still growing.  
  
He saw her, nodded knowingly as if he'd been expecting the lone woman, and called out to her. "The hour is late, the skies dark and stormy, the lands flooded and wild, and Jaheira of Tethyr comes before me, bearing a light burden on her back, but a great one on her heart. Come, daughter of the druids, back once more to your family. Join us again, my child."  
  
Jaheira ascended out of the muck onto the hill, and stood just outside the circle of stones, looking skeptically at the man in its center. "I am no child, Cernd, indeed I am older than your mother, and might one Tethyrian druid ask another why you too linger still in Amn?"  
  
The shapeshifter smiled. "A just question, Jaheira, who joined as an orphan and left as a woman our home grove long ere I was born to it. I would have returned, my investigation long now finished, but for obligations to nature - I am now grand druid of this grove, and our family needs me here."  
  
"And what of your own family?" Jaheira asked him. "Did you not have a son, whom you longed to see again, and must still be neglecting."  
  
"Sadly, yes," a mournful look crossed the long-haired man's face, "But even the grandest tree cannot keep its fruit upon its boughs forever; otherwise neither tree nor fruit would grow. I'm afraid that what you speak of, for now at least, it is a necessary sacrifice for the balance. And I am glad, dear Jaheira, to see that you once again desire to serve it."  
  
"I have served it ever, Cernd," the half-elf rejoined defensively, "[i]As[/i] a druid, though not [i]with[/i] others of our kind."  
  
"I meant nothing contrary, my dear," the man gestured apologetically, even as his face stayed haughty, "But I am so glad you are here once more."  
  
The woman sighed. "I...I want to do what I can, but I know you can sense the real, simple reason I'm here; I can't deny it even to myself. I've..." she bit her lip and a tear welled in the corner of one eye, "I've just got no other place to go."  
  
Cernd stared deeply at her, with compassion but also curiosity, as if looking straight through her eyes, directly into her mind. "Nowhere else should you be, though," he said, "With the young paladin? Certainly not. We both know, as much as he seemed to want to reach out to you, that his growth was stunted, his mind was closed off to any view save his own, indeed to our view, the True View; his mind was as closed off as his heart. He would have tried to lead you down a false path, indeed he did try if not deliberately or deviously, and I sense you have explored it with him, but that also you saw that it was false. And this, even were his pet pigeon to have never walked our beautiful planet, would have ever kept you two apart, even if you had tried to be together. That could have happened physically, perhaps, but spiritually, never. And you have journeyed, in both these realms, but now you return home. And that, I sense is the real reason you have returned, to leave both him and his warmongering philosophy behind, and make yourself pure again."  
  
[i]Yes, you hate him,[/i] Jaheira told herself.  
  
[i]No, I love him,[/i] she thought back.  
  
[i]Hate him.  
  
Love him.  
  
You hate him. He is your enemy.  
  
I love him. He is my best friend.  
  
No! He scorned you. Your friendship, your love, your body, and your ways. He lusted for you once, but he hates you, and you hate him.  
  
No! He loved me. He had to follow his heart, but he wanted us to be all he could be, and he would have wanted all else and to change his own heart if he could have.  
  
Never, he was a delusional fool who could trick himself and thus you as a charlatan might trick you.  
  
No! He had clarity. He wanted us to understand each other's views, and I think he was right about some things.  
  
He is like an arrogant child. A naive little boy with his naive little girl and their naive little beliefs.  
  
He is enchanted by his love for her, but no more deluded than are any of us who love, and more consistent and clear in his beliefs than any.  
  
You are right that you are deluded that you love or believe him. You do not. You hate him and his dogma!  
  
I cannot, we were soulmates.  
  
You were his nanny, no more. Be glad you are rid of him!  
  
I...yes, I am glad that I am rid of him, in a way..I wanted to be his friend, but I could not stand to be with him and less than his beloved. It hurts so much even now.  
  
It hurts less with hate...this you know.  
  
But that's wrong! But yes, it does.[/i]  
  
Jaheira shut her eyes and clenched her teeth, grabbing both sides of her skull like she were trying to prevent it from splitting in half.  
  
"You struggle with questions of the balance, my dear," Cernd's mesmerizing voice filled her ears and her mind, "Both external and internal; balance of our world, and within your own head. You are tired, cold, hungry, wet, muddy, and confused. Come join us inside, where all will be made comfortable and clear."  
  
Jaheira opened her eyes, moving her hand and mouth to object, but she could not lift her arm above her breasts, and only a feeble groan escaped her lips. Cernd gestured to her, warm and welcoming, and she found that, though she was tired, she could not close her eyes, for she could not tear them away from his, and his gaze and continuing words of welcome seemed to both weaken her and nourish her.  
  
At last the shapeshifter bent towards the ground, as if taking a step towards her but crouching low. Then, hands become like paws and his arms furry, his staff melding with them, and then his ears and jowl grew large, and he looked like a wolf, and then she realized his entire body now was as one.  
  
The great werewolf trotted towards her, and she felt weaker still and fell forward, but upon its waiting back rather than the ground. It turned around, easily bearing her, and plodded back past the circle of stones and towards the entrance of the cave.  
  
Jaheira's last thoughts flowed like water through her mind. [i]I had a family....my parents were taken from me by revolutionaries. Then the druids were my family, but my foster parents were taken from me by poachers. Then the Harpers were my family, but Gorion was taken from me, by Sarevok, and then Khalid was taken from me, by Irenicus. Then my party was my family, but Onyx was taken from me, by his ignorance, by Aerie, by their shared beliefs and love. Now the druids are my family again. Cernd and the druids are my family..[/i].  
  
*********  
  
20 FLAMRULE 1300 ATHKATLA - WAUKEEN'S PROMENADE  
  
"Yegads, mister Quayle, lookie at all these elves pourin' into town! Why, I haven't seen this many elves in Athkatla since my great-great-uncle, 'Saint' Nicolas Jansen, tried setting up a Jansen Seasonal Toys & Gifts Co. elf-labor sweatshop in the slums district, only to find that his business rival, miss Snowy Whyte (a.k.a. Kaithae Laie) of Poison Apple Sweatshops Inc., had undercut him with cheaper dwarven labor! I hear tell she had a thing for the rock-eatin' buggers too, there were this seven she always kept around..Anyway, I hear these elves are all fresh from that evil 'Chaos Circus' my good good friends trashed!"  
  
"And might I add, mister Jansen, that if you had a fraction of my intellect, you'd also know that one of those 'good good friends', that Sir Onyx fellow, just happens to be my niece's fiancé!"  
  
"What in the nine turnipless hells? Why, I haven't heard of a human & a gnome getting' hitched since uncle Hugo Hefsen and one of his Playgnome centerfolds, Arra Nycara Smythe."  
  
"No, Jan, you writhing imbecil! Why, if you were even nearly as smart as I am, you'd surely know that Aerie the elf is my 'niece', by adoption, and that's a-course who I meant, you rotund little slowbrain!"  
  
Jan Jansen and Quayle, gnomish illusionists and annoyances extraordinaire (who were proving no less irritating to one another than they did to everyone else), were standing (on a very tall podium) just in front of the entrance to Quayle's circus, watching in amazement as caravans of tieflings and elves - wood, moon, avariel, drow, sea - poured through Waukeen's Promenade. As the gnomes had realized, these were the "refugees" of former Chaos Circus slavery, who had been freed by Onyx, Jaheira, Arra, Anomen, Valygar, and Minsc, given the provisions of the disbanded circus, such as food and drink (mostly already consumed) and caravans for the journeys to their respective homelands: the forests, the caves, the mountains, the sea, or the planes.  
  
Despite the fact that few of them lived in Athkatla, many were apparently going through, presumably on their way to lands to the south, or to use the Five Flagons' now well-known interplanar portal. Quayle saw this as a business opportunity, of course, and was trying to convince these itinerant elves to stay and join his circus. (This, of course, was not the first time he had acquired labor from the Chaos Circus, as his 'niece' well knew). He was standing on a tall podium with an enormous magi-megaphone, broadcasting his message across the Promenade. Unfortunately, Quayle was greeted by more thrown rotten tomatoes than offers, due to his rather insulting and ineffective way of 'coaxing' them, and also their understandable aversion to circuses after their previous big-top interment.  
  
"JOIN QUAYLE CIRCUS," the gnome bellowed into his magi-megaphone, "IT IS FUN AND EXCITING AND PAYS WELL. YOU ARE ALREADY SKILLED TO WORK HERE. YOU WOULD HAVE TO BE A MORON NOT TO WANT TO WORK HERE."  
  
In response, a rotten watermelon sailed out of the window of a caravan, smacking Quayle and sending the megaphone (as well as chunks of moldy melon) flying about. Luckily, Jan caught the megaphone in midflight.  
  
"Lemme try, mister Quayle!" he chirped while the other gnome cleaned off his spectacles and muttered something about the intellectual inferiority of everyone around him.  
  
"LADIES ANG GENTLE-ELVES," Jan Jansen called into the megaphone, "WELCOME TO QUAAAAAAYLE'S CIRCUS! I KNOW, I KNOW, YOU"VE HAD SOME ROUGH TIMES, AND THAT'S AN UNDERSTATEMENT, AND RIGHT NOW A JOB IN THE LIVE ENTERTAINMENT BIZ IS ABOUT THE LAST THINGS ON YOUR TROUBLED MINDS. BUT HAVE NO FEAR, QUAYLE'S CIRCUS IS HERE! IT'S A CLEAN, FUN-AND-FREEDOM-LOVING PLACE, WITH 100% VOLUNTARY LABOR, NO COMMITMENT REQUIRED, COME AND GO AS YOU PLEASE, NO STRINGS ATTACHED! WE'RE ALWAYS ROTATING ACTS AND SHOWS, AND ALL SORTS OF TALENTS, ACROBATIC, COMIC, OR MAGICAL, ARE WELCOME AND NEEDED! AND WHAT BETTER PLACE TO LIVE AND WORK THAN ATHKATLA, A DIVERSE CENTER OF FAERUNIAN CULTURE AND COMMERCE THAT NEVER FAILS TO EXCITE AND AMAZE! THERE'S NO BUSINESS LIKE SHOW BUSINESS! THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO MAKE IT BIG, BIG, BIG! DON'T DELAY! SPOTS ARE GOING FAST!"  
  
Pointy-eared heads were now sticking out of the windows of the caravans, and immediately entire elves began hopping out and a throng amassed in the already-crowded promenade just in front of the circus, at the foot of the podium where the gnomes were standing. "Better get the interviews going!" Jan whispered to Quayle.  
  
"Er, right," the bespectacled gnome chuckled, wringing his hands happily as he looked down at the clamor of elves. "You just ah, keep sayin' what you're sayin', and I'll use my superior skills of inference and deduction to weed out the most talented of 'em!"  
  
"SAY," Jan babbled to himself (so he thought) as Quayle hopped down, and didn't notice that he happened to skill have his mouth really close to the megaphone, "I HAVEN'T SEEN A THRONG OF YOUNG DEMIHUMANS THIS THICK SINCE I LAST WENT TO A BRITTANY OF SPEARS CONCERT.OF COURSE, THAT WAS NOTHING COMPARED TO THE INTENSITY OF WHEN I WENT BACKSTAGE TO GET HER AUTOGRAPH AFTER THE SHOW, AND I CAME ACROSS HER IN THE MIDST OF A 'HUMBLING OF THE UNBELIEVERS' ORGY-CEREMONY IN HER CHANGING ROOM, WHICH SHE DRAGGED HAPLESS LITTLE ME INTO THE MIDDLE OF, AND SHE SPENT THE NEXT SEVEN HOURS 'TICKLING' ME WITH HER TENTACLE ROD! WHO'D EVER HAVE THOUGHT THAT BRITTANY OF SPEARS WAS ACTUALLY A PSYCHOTIC EVIL ARCHPRIESTESS OF LOVIATAR BENT ON USING THE HYPNOTIC POWERS OF HER MUSIC OVER THE WEAK-MINDED, AND THE PAINMAIDEN-WORTHY AGONY IT CAUSES IN EVERYONE ELSE, TO ENSLAVE THE WORLD. WELL, IT WAS KINDA FUN, AND YOU"D NEVER GUESS WHERE SHE SIGNED HER AUTOGRAPH.AS A PERMANENT TATTOO."  
  
The gnome abruptly shut up (an amazing event in and of itself) when he realized that the entire promenade was now deathly silent, and every pair of eyes for hundreds of yards around was staring at him. "Eep!" the little illusionist cried and hastily cast an invisibility spell.  
  
Meanwhile, just inside the big tent, Quayle had set up a little sub- tent, inside which was a chair and a desk. "Next!" he called from behind the desk, as the drow jester standing before him finished a juggling act involving five scimitars and an infant.  
  
As the drow departed, a beautiful moon elf woman stepped into the mini-tint. "What?" Quayle exclaimed as he noticed she, too, held a newborn. "Another brat-act?"  
  
"No, no, mister Quayle sir, he's just my son," she sighed demurely, and set the half-elven baby in the chair. "My name is Iri. I am a dancer," she said simply, and began her act. The gnome watched enrapt as the elf, clad in a strange but alluring outfit of many multicolored and nigh- translucent pieces, almost like she were merely wearing a large number of thin scarves, began a slow, graceful dance while singing an enchanting but haunting and mournful tune in some exotic language.  
  
"Marvelous! Marvelous!" Quayle clapped his stubby hands excitedly. "Why, even the insipidly stupid denizens of this city will be able to appreciate such a beautiful act. Iri, was it? What is your son's name?"  
  
"Cyrex," Iri said simply. They looked at the boy, who was but an infant and yet had managed to find three stones and was juggling them expertly.  
  
"My my! Quite a talented lad! He'll be perfect here. But now, who's the father?" Quayle asked, holding a quill up as he wrote things down.  
  
"The father's.gone, dead.." The moon elf mother sighed.  
  
"Yes, but whom?" the gnome asked tactlessly.  
  
"Please.it.doesn't matter," Iri pleaded.  
  
"Very well, very well, I suppose it really doesn't," Quayle adjusted his glasses and handed her a paper. "Here's your contract; standard weekly wages, bonuses for each performance, conditions, waivers, fine print, and all that. Just sign along the dotted line..ah, good.NEXT!!!"  
  
As Iri tenderly lifted her son into her arms, walking away from the gnome's desk and out of the mini-tent just as a fire-breathing tiefling walked in, she kissed her half-elven son's forehead and whispered to him. "My poor, darling little Cyrex. Those brave heroes gave us a chance for a better life. Won't it be fun growing up in the circus, little Cyrex? Far away from your father." [i] Cyran,[/i] she thought to herself silently. [i]I pray, my son, that you never know who your father was, especially not[/i] what[i] he was. May you be spared what one of very heroes who rescued us endured. I pray, my dear son, that you never know.[/i]  
  
**********  
  
20 FLAMERULE 2100 THE SEA OF SWORDS  
  
As well as moving south to Amn, the rains which had pounded and left the Sword Coast had moved out west upon the Sea of Swords itself. The maritime night sky was made even darker by the blanket of dark stormclouds smothering all light of stars or moon, and the only light came from the many lightning flashes that danced across the ocean. The water was rough, and upon it was a tossing ship. It was a sleek three-masted vessel, and swashbucklers ran to and fro across the decks and climbed through the rigging, trying desperately to keep the ship sailing in the great storm. The sails were let very slack in the high wind, but each bore the symbol of a purple sun with a superimposed skull.  
  
Across the side of the ship was written the words "Our Lady Entropy." Above these words upon the ship's fore deck stood two figures, a man and a tiefling whose faces were made frightful by their tattoos, piercings, and manic grins. The man wore acid-green robes and the tiefling wore multicolored chainmail.  
  
"Strange things have we seen in death oh yes!" the robed man laughed hysterically and bit his fist. "Some demons too have rabbit's feet, and cloven-hooved clowns prance 'cross the hells! 'Tis true, 'tis true!"  
  
"Few denizens of the multiverse, much less clueless Primes, speak as poetically as you, dear Xzar," the tiefling smiled. "So glad you decided to join my suddenly-understaffed troupe. We new characters like you on board..literally!" he laughed and stomped on the deck.  
  
"Ahoy cap'n Dalis!" cried a halfling pirate from the crow's nest. "Man overboard!!"  
  
".and fewer dagger-biting drunkards who can't even keep to one side of the railing," Haer'Dalis added with an exasperated sigh. He then shouted up to the halfling, "Kill the sails, Monty!"  
  
"Kill the sails! Near the aft 'pon starboard side!" Montaron up in the nest shouted. Immediately the sails went totally slack and the ship slowed in the water while several men ran towards the starboard side of the aft deck and threw a net overboard. Within a minute they had hauled it back up, now with a body entangled in it.  
  
"How curious," Haer'Dalis scratched his tattooed chin as he and Xzar ran to the back of the ship to inspect this piece of humanoid flotsam. "He's not one of ours."  
  
The blade and the necromancer peered down at the body as the swashbucklers untangled it and laid it upon the deck. It was a young human male, his blonde hair spiky despite his waterlogged state, with a very athletic physique. He wore a simple black-and-purple fighting suit and a matching headband which more the dark sun of Cyric. Most striking, though, was the enormous slash that ran down the left side of his young face, a deep katana slash from his forehead to the corner of his mouth, as if he had sneered so horribly it had sliced all the way up his face. It was so bloody and deep that it was difficult to tell whether the man's left eye was still in its socket, and if so, whether in one piece.  
  
Haer'Dalis leaned over the man and smiled. "Why, I believe this is a former business partner of my dear departed brothers and myself - none other than the Saint!"  
  
The surrounding crowd gasped and Xzar shrieked as the body suddenly came to life. It spasmed once and the arms flew up and clutched Haer'Dalis round the neck, and the mouth, opening freakishly wide thanks to the gash which severed part of the left cheek, spat bloody saltwater into the blade's surprised face.  
  
The swashbucklers immediately drew scimitars and prepared to converge on the waterlogged semi-alive man strangling their master Blade, but the tiefling immediately lifted up his own arms out to the sides and signaled them back with open hands.  
  
The Saint made more gurgling sounds as he continued to expunge saltwater from his throat. "Yes.the Saint indeed.Cyran lives!" he croaked at last, then threw Haer'Dalis violently aside. The blade rolled nicely and sprang up laughing merrily as the waterlogged kensai got to his feet.  
  
"I take it your little undersea palace has had a plumbing mishap, dear Cyran?" Haer'Dalis smiled. "I don't suppose the Jeweler is swimming about?"  
  
"He is.extinct," Cyran chuckled darkly. As if just now becoming aware of his scar, he held his left hand up over the side of his face. "My head..hurts...feels like katana in brain...hurts Cyran...Cyran mad!!!! HA HA HA HA HA HA.." the kensai began to cackle insanely. Haer'Dalis raised an eyebrow and looked between him and Xzar, mentally comparing the kensai's sudden eccentric behavior with the necromancer's habits.  
  
"Yes Xzar understands he too had head hurt once," the green-robed wizard giggled and rubbed his temple and crown with his hands, shaking up his already disheleved hair. "Xzar knows what it is like to feel the pounding in the brain forevermore, yes truly I do!" Before Xzar's eyes flashed childhood memories, the fist of a paladin-to-be slamming into his temple, a hard wall of Candlekeep smashing into his crown, a rock in the courtyard's grass hitting his forehead as he fell, then all the noises and voices and colors.. Xzar began to titter and almost cried, then his face twisted up in rage and he screamed, "I shall help thee, Cyran!"  
  
He began to reach for the Cyran's face, but the kensai screamed and flailed back with incredible strength at the necromancer, who barely managed to dodge the kensai's fist. "No touch stupid wizard," Cyran began ranting, his slashed face twisting horribly as he spoke, the torn left cheek flapping about, "I shall kill kill kill have revenge very soon.I will regenerate wound Cyran super tough heal natural no worries yes indeed oh yes."  
  
While Xzar began to babble in arcane tongues, Cyran kept holding his head and muttering incessantly. After pronouncing his final syllable, the evil wizard clapped his hands and then pushed them forward together, sending an ethereal yellow orb into the Cyran's chest. The kensai was immediately stunned and fell backwards onto the deck, lying absolutely silent and motionless.  
  
"Poor Cyran!" Xzar screeched and bent over the fallen, frozen kensai while drawing a spherical white gem from his robes. "It the wound regenerates, no left eye will thou have for seeing our common enemies, indeed! Let Xzar help, please, oh yes!"  
  
Haer'Dalis and the crew, standing in an awestruck circle around the two figures, watched in horror as the kneeling necromancer began a disgusting procedure. He used his clawlike bare fingernails to tear apart the mending flesh around the stunned kensai's empty left eye socket, then pushed the gem into it. He then used his bloody fingers to pull the flesh back around it, molding and kneading it like clay as it resumed regenerating. Finally it bled no longer and the skin seemed unbroken again, but there was still a horrible scar running from the left corner of his mouth up to his now-solid-white left 'eye' and trough his now-split left eyebrow and up his forehead, which now had an indentation that seemed to go in to where a human's forebrain should be. Several crew members ran over to the railing and vomited over the edge of the ship at the sight of the necromancer's unnatural surgery.  
  
Xzar backed away just in time as Cyran unfroze. The kensai's right eye blinked and he sat up with a start. He moved a hand up to the left side of his face, gingerly tracing the scar and poking at the gem in his eyesocket. He sprang to his feet and looked around. Haer'Dalis, Xzar, and the rest of the crew peered it him with disgusted curiosity, and stared into his new jeweled eye. Each thought at first he could see his own reflection in it, but when he looked deeper, the spherical gem seemed like a crystal ball in which could be scene unspeakably horrible images of torture, carnage, murder, and other things sicker still. The corners of the kensai's now ever-sneering mouth twitched as the images moved and changed; as if he were watching them himself, or perhaps they were indeed projections of his very thoughts.  
  
Chills went down the spine of every man present as Cyran began to laugh maniacally. "Now can I see clearly yes! To Mouth Ith must we go there is my flock of faithful to lord Cyric the Saint has converted must we go organize army new task lays before us!"  
  
"Task, my dear Saint?" Haer arched an eyebrow. "Cyric has some new designs of merry chaos-making you perceive?"  
  
"Oh yes yes indeed," Cyran laughed, "He will show you yes indeed here he comes."  
  
The vision of Haer'Dalis and Xzar went dark for one moment, and then came back.  
  
The blade, the kensai, and the necromancer stood upon an endless plain of sand. Somehow the place was both chillingly cold and scorchingly hot; and the sky both dark and bright; for at its zenith was a dark-lit purple sun, and a skull grinned within it.  
  
"WELCOME TO PANDEMONIUM," the omnipresent 'voice' of the skull above pierced their minds, "IT IS I, CYRIC."  
  
"What do you command, lord," Cyran looked up, staring straight at the dark sun, the skull reflecting in his eye-gem. Standing on either side of him, Xzar and Haer'Dalis felt as though they were nearly blinded as they tried to look upon it.  
  
"THE TRADING OF SLAVES HAS SERVED THEE WELL. MUCH HAVE THEE NOW IN WEALTH AND MIGHT. THE TIME FOR THY DESTINY IS NOW AT HAND.  
  
"RETURN TO THY FAITHFUL FLOCK, SAINT CYRAN, RETURN TO MOUTH ITH, AND LET MY PRIESTS IN THE CITIES RECRUIT EVER MORE TO JOIN THEE AT ITH AND SWELL THY RANKS. BUILD AN ARMY, RAID THE LAID, BEGIN FULL WAR WHEN THEE ARE STRONG, ACCUMULATE MURDERS, THAT IS THY GOAL."  
  
"CYRAN, THOU ART A SWORD SAINT, BUT THOU MUST BE MORE."  
  
"NECROMANCER, THOU SHALT NOW TEACH CYRAN THE WAYS OF THE ARCANE. THY REWARD SHALL BE ARCANE KNOWLEDGE AND TERRIBLE POWER BEYOND THY RECKONING AT THY FINGERTIPS."  
  
"BLADE, THOU SHALT NOW BIND THYSELF AND THY CREW TO THIS ARMY, AND THY HARP SHALL SING OF OUR GLORY. THY REWARD SHALL THE POWER OF ENSLAVING ENCHANTMENT OVER ANY THY DESIRE."  
  
"CYRAN, BUILD THY ARMY AND GO FORTH. THOU MUST SLAY. FOR SLAYING IS THE PATH TO THE THRONE."  
  
The kensai, the blade, and the necromancer found themselves standing upon the deck of Our Lady Entropy again, their vision gone, the rain beating down as before.  
  
"I don't understand," Haer'Dalis looked at Cyran, "Throne? The Throne of Bhaal? Is it not now rejected and gone? Was not its war, the Bhaalspawn War, already fought?"  
  
"No, no, dear bard, it is rejected and [i]unclaimed,[/i]" Cyran smiled, "The real throne war has just begun." 


End file.
